


When The World Ends

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Auror Training, DH (all but epilogue) compliant, Death Eaters, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-13
Updated: 2010-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny is tired of being pushed into the background as if nothing she endured counted for anything. It turns out, Katie feels the same way. They plan on making a difference in the war, even if no one takes them seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shadows On Our Own

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during DH (minus the Epilogue of Doom). Also, this fits "undercover: having to participate in illegal / hurtful activity" prompt on my [hc_bingo](http://community.livejournal.com/hc_bingo/) card.

_We will rise as the buildings crumble  
Float there and watch it all  
Amidst the burning, we'll be churning  
You know, love will be our wings  
The passion rises up from the ashes  
When the world ends._  
Dave Matthews Band, "When The World Ends"

Ginny waited on the stairs of the Burrow, listening for when the yelling stopped. The upcoming wedding festivities were put on hold so that Order of the Phoenix members could talk to Katie Bell regarding an incident in Knockturn Alley the day before, though talking apparently also included yelling on both sides. Ginny didn't know all of the particulars, something about a possible Death Eater in the alley that somehow didn't have a tongue to speak with anymore, but the older members were furious with Katie. She had heard her parents talking about the girl the day before in hushed tones; they had always liked her when she visited the twins before, but now there was an air of trepidation about the way they talked about Katie. Ginny overheard the words _not right_ and _changed_ and _cursed by the Dark Arts_ tossed about in between their whispers.

They had reacted the same way to Ginny after the Chamber of Secrets her first year.

There had been no time during the end of Ginny's fifth year to talk to Katie. Katie had to double up on her seventh year classes to finish all the work she missed while lying in St. Mungo's spell damage ward for nearly six months in order to graduate on time. She had still flown as a Chaser for the team, though there had been an air of determination about her that was different from before her time at Mungo's.

Not to mention the scars.

No one else seemed to see them, and Ginny sometimes didn't see them herself. But it was like a fine network of scars all across her face and hands, as if a gossamer spider's web of silver had been strung across her skin. Katie had covered up as much as she could, so Ginny guessed that more than just her face and hands were involved with the scarring. She was tight lipped about what it might have been like, and Ginny had wanted to smack Harry when she heard about him callously asking her if she remembered anything on her first day back at Hogwarts.

Ginny sighed at the thought of Harry. It was just as well that he broke things off with her, though how he did it was awful. Being his girlfriend had been nothing like what she thought it would be when she was eleven, and he was somehow still completely oblivious to the fact that she had her own mind and personality. He forgot things about her, as if she was unimportant, as if she was as easily forgotten as her history of possession.

But she remembered, and she guessed that Katie remembered all too well her time at Mungo's and simply didn't want to discuss it. People backed off fairly easily once you told them you couldn't remember something, especially if it was something they really didn't want to discuss anyway. People were squeamish about the Dark Arts, and didn't want to think that someone close to them could be contaminated by it. But the Dark Arts taught as much as it could corrupt, and there were some lessons not easily forgotten.

Katie banged out of the room the Order had been using without a backward glance. The scars on her face shone silver against her skin, a criss-crossing network of thin lines. She looked angry, her jaw clenched tight, and she thundered right past Ginny without even acknowledging her. They had been chasers together on the House team back at Hogwarts. Though they had never been close, they had at least been friendly.

"Oi, Katie," Ginny called out. Katie swung around, blue eyes flashing with leftover anger as her dark brown hair swished about in its ponytail. "Can we talk a minute?"

"What about?" The words carried an edge to them, a guardedness that hadn't been there a year ago. Ginny knew they weren't directed at her specifically. "I'm busy."

"The scars," Ginny said, voice quiet. "That meeting. And the probable nightmares that come with it all."

Katie's jaw tightened even further, but she had no other sign of being affected. "Now I know you're being mental. That meeting's not any of your business."

Pushing any farther would likely get her a "fuck off" response, but Ginny's thoughts about Katie were all but confirmed at this point. "They don't see them, do they? Those people in there? They don't see the scars at all." Ginny's voice was quiet, as if there was no one else in the house but the two of them. "Most back at school couldn't. I couldn't ask then..."

"Don't see why you'd want to now," Katie interrupted brusquely. "Is this just curiosity? Because I'm busy enough as it is right now. I've training to get to."

It had come as a surprise to everyone but Ginny when Katie had applied for the Magical Law Enforcement training program. It was a basic program with basic combat, defense and offense skills that led to specialized training in various fields. Most applicants became Aurors, but some became Unspeakables, Rune Hunters, Artifact Investigators or Curse Breakers.

"It marks us," Ginny said quietly. "They forget that it does, that something like that doesn't go away just because you want it to. It's easy for them to forget when they can't see it, when they ignore what bothers them." Katie was staring at her, eyes wide, lips parted slightly. Ginny could hear the seconds tick by on the watch she wore. _Tick. Tick. Tick._ "They forget because they don't want to remember, and we can't help but remember." She stood up on the stairs. "We can talk in my room if you've got a minute. I'm thinking of maybe doing like you're doing now, the Law Enforcement program."

Katie seemed to weigh her words carefully, then came to a decision. "Yeah, I've a mo'. We can swap horror stories."

_Prove what you're saying,_ Ginny heard behind the words. She accepted that. Once they were in her room, everything charmed to silence around them, Ginny began to tell Katie about the diary, and Tom Riddle, and the basilisk. She left out the frustration and _rage_ at her family for not seeing her clearly enough to know she had been possessed, for shunting all of it aside as soon as she seemed "better." There was no need for Katie to know how much it hurt to know that _Harry_ of all people had forgotten about her possession. And no one really needed to know that sometimes she still thought she heard Tom's voice in the back of her mind when she was alone. Her mind was playing tricks on her, that was all. He wasn't there, running commentary and telling her how much better she was than all the fools around her that could not and would not see the truth.

Katie still held herself stiffly even after Ginny's words. "So what do you want from me?"

Ginny's shoulders slumped slightly. "I'd've thought it was obvious."

"It isn't," Katie replied. "You were taken in by a Dark Object. What's that got to do with me?"

Ginny squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "I want to do what you're doing," she began after a moment. "They don't _see_ me, they don't give a damn what I want, and I want to do _something_ more than just sit here like a doll."

"The training program is for Hogwarts _graduates,"_ Katie pointed out, not unkindly. "And even then, there's an advanced program, then moving on to one of the divisions within the Law Enforcement program. It's not like you can become an auror overnight."

"It's not that I want to become an auror overnight. It's... They won't even discuss the options with me. I don't know what I should take as electives at Hogwarts. I don't know what I should be looking into. I want something _more_ than just sitting around waiting for someone to notice me or waiting for someone to rescue me. That didn't work out so well the last time, and I'm done with being a damn damsel in distress."

Katie smiled at Ginny's words, her arms unfolding. It was almost like relief in her posture, that Ginny wasn't merely using her past as a sob story to go poking about at Katie's. "I heard there's a mentorship program. They'd asked me if I was in it when I enrolled in the basic law enforcement program. I can look into it, see if I could mentor you."

Ginny smiled at Katie in return. "Thanks, Katie. I appreciate it."

Katie nodded firmly. "Strong girls ought to stick together, yeah? No point in being put aside somewhere if we can save ourselves."

"That's it _exactly,"_ Ginny agreed.

"I don't know if it'll go anywhere, mind. The Order doesn't think very much of me right now."

Ginny snorted at Katie. "So? We're Gryffindor and we know the twins. As if that would stop us if we really wanted to do something."

Katie laughed, and it felt like she hadn't laughed that way in _years._ "Too right. Well, I've a class I shouldn't miss this afternoon. I'll ask the Program Director about that mentorship program. There's probably going to be hoops to jump through."

Ginny merely smiled. "Shouldn't be a problem for two good chasers."

"Definitely not," Katie agreed. "I'll owl you as soon as I know anything."

Ginny watched Katie leave, feeling the tight nervousness around her chest ease a little. The ticking of her watch seemed less ominous now. It was less that time was running out, and more that she was working for a larger goal.

Sod that protection crap her family and Harry kept spewing. She was a Weasley and she had a wicked set of hexing skills if only she could put them to use.

She was done waiting in the shadows. The world was getting dangerous, and she had no intention of letting everyone else rescue her.

***

The castle felt half empty when Ginny returned to Hogwarts. She was a sixth year, and half of her year hadn't returned. Half of the seventh year hadn't, either. Most of the younger students were still there; they weren't involved in most of the fighting of previous years and had no idea what would be in store for them. Molly Weasley had almost considered letting Ginny stay back at home, but she wouldn't have allowed Ginny to participate in Order raids, reconnaissance or meetings. Ginny figured she might as well pretend to get an education, and might as well try to capitalize on her friendship and possible mentorship from Katie Bell. She hadn't lied, after all. She wanted to do _something_ and wanted it to be more than simply standing in the shadows waiting for something to happen.

Ginny pushed the door open to Myrtle's bathroom. Other girls still didn't want to use it, and now that Hermione had left Hogwarts no one else would. Myrtle hadn't wanted to see her after her first year, still brassed off about throwing the diary through her. But Ginny had apologized in her second year, and explained that it had been such an evil book that she had been thoughtless about what was going on around her. Myrtle hadn't originally accepted the apology, but Ginny visited her every so often during her second year. Gradually Myrtle forgave her simply by sheer persistence on Ginny's part. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they simply sat there side by side on the floor near the sinks.

Ginny still remembered a few words of parselmouth. She was still fluent in her dreams, still able to draw up a nonexistent basilisk from out of the sinks to wander through the pipes. _I command you,_ she told the creature in parselmouth. It knew better than to look at its master, and it simply nodded at her. _I will treat you properly,_ Ginny told it in her dreams, stroking its back tenderly. _I know how to take care of you, my pet._

"You don't look happy to be back," Myrtle commented.

Ginny slumped down into her usual place on the floor. "I don't know if I am, exactly. Things are different. Darker, harder somehow."

"It's war," Myrtle replied, shrugging. "It's how it was back when I was at school. There was a war on in the Muggle world then. That sort of thing carries through even if you try to ignore it, you know." She smiled at Ginny. "But I'm glad you're here. Only you and that boy visit me, and everyone else just pretends I don't even exist."

"That boy? What boy?"

"He cried a lot," Myrtle said, coming to sit next to Ginny. "He had a lot of difficult choices to make, and I don't think he made good ones. But he didn't listen to me. He kept saying I couldn't understand because I'm dead."

Ginny patted Myrtle's hand at the sound of her affronted voice. Though her hand passed right through the ghost, her intention was clear and appreciated. "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it. He was crying and upset, after all. A lot of people say stupid shite they don't mean when they're upset about something."

Myrtle smiled. "True enough. I'll miss you when you graduate."

"I'll miss you, too, Myrtle." Ginny even meant it. "I suppose I should head off to the dorms and unpack. I wanted to say hello before that, though."

Myrtle preened a bit, then zoomed into the bathroom pipes. "Visit me anytime!"

"I will!" Ginny called out, getting back up to her feet. The way things were going, she would probably need to.

***

Katie met with Program Director Andrei Stepanov as soon as she found out that he was involved in the mentorship program. There was no particular requirement, though it was usually done for seventh year students. Program Director Stepanov was a forbidding-looking man, and he was known to make recruits cry on exit exams at the close of the six month program.

He had granted her request to meet readily enough. She had no sense of his political leanings; most of the other instructors were easy to identify. She just _knew_ these things sometimes. She attributed it to her curse damage; she felt different from how she used to be, and could only imagine it was due to fusing the curse locket into her body.

"Cadet Bell," Stepanov said, Russian accent thick. It added to his imposing demeanor, as did the frown on his face. "You requested an audience well in advance of your exit exams. Don't tell me you presume to know everything to graduate early."

Katie didn't respond to the sneer in his tone. "No, sir. I understand you're in charge of the mentorship program. I've been asked by a current Hogwarts student to be a mentor. I'm hoping to get your advice on this."

Stepanov raised an eyebrow at her bland yet self-assured tone. He had pulled her file ahead of time, of course. She was getting top marks in everything, even the hand to hand combat courses. She was quiet, hardworking and had few acquaintances in the program. She had one possible blemish on her record, a "disagreement" with an upperclassman in the Auror program, though there was no official sanction given to her actions and no official reprisal. It had occurred just after she had enrolled in the basic Law Enforcement course, just outside of Knockturn Alley, and the upperclassman was no longer able to speak.

"I see," Stepanov said after a long moment. "Do you feel equipped to be a mentor?"

"I would defer to your advice on that matter," Katie replied.

Stepanov frowned at her. "I asked you a question, Bell."

"Whether I feel comfortable or not is immaterial if you feel I'm unprepared for the task," Katie replied. Though her expression was bland, there was a slight edge to her voice that Stepanov could hear.

"I see." Katie had no outward response to that. Stepanov tried looking for any chink in her armor, any sign of nervousness. If she was, she hid it well. "Our mentors generally excel in their courses and have a clean record. Otherwise, they would make for poor examples of life within our ranks," Stepanov began, voice smooth. Katie didn't even flinch. "Yet you have a 'disagreement' with an upperclassman that made it onto your permanent record." Katie's jaw tightened, and she stared straight ahead. Ah, there it was. "So what was this disagreement about?"

"It's immaterial, sir," Katie replied tightly, still looking at a spot just past Stepanov's eyes.

"I'll decide if it's immaterial, Cadet Bell," Stepanov barked. "Tell me."

"Auror Cadet Grassley thought it would be a good idea to force himself on me. I disagreed with him," Katie said, every syllable clipped and suffused with anger.

Stepanov sat back in his chair. He hadn't heard of any such incident, and he sincerely doubted that Grassley would have wanted that public even if he could speak. "I see." He could tell that it was truth, though he didn't know this Cadet very well. "You didn't open a grievance."

"I'm a Cadet and new to the program. No one asked for details regarding the disagreement."

He heard the words behind the tone. _I didn't matter, and no one would believe my word against his._ That was certainly true. The Law Enforcement programs definitely had that air of being an old boys' club. That Katie took care of the incident herself and continued on spoke to her sheer force of will. That no one had investigated spoke to laziness on the part of his staff, and Stepanov didn't like that at all.

"Well, that remark will be removed from your record, and Auror Cadet Grassley will have that behavior to answer for." Stepanov didn't miss the flash of surprise in Katie's eyes, the loosening of her jaw in shock. She didn't quite gape at him, though he surmised that she would have if she was less controlled. "Who is the student in question?"

Katie rolled with the subject change easily enough. "Ginny Weasley. She's currently a sixth year at Hogwarts. She approached me recently regarding her request, and I told her I'd get back in touch with her once I knew more."

Stepanov didn't seem to be surprised. "You know the girl well? has she an interest in law enforcement? Or is it because of one of those Wireless serials?"

"We were both on the House quidditch team," Katie supplied with a negligent shrug. "She told me she has interest."

"Mentorship is a serious responsibility, one that can open you up to an excessive amount of scrutiny. Such things can be potentially dangerous right now."

Katie decided he wasn't a Death Eater. Or at least, not a rabid one.

Katie looked at Stepanov. "Sir? What do you mean?"

Stepanov looked at her grimly. She was cautious, not stupid. "These are dangerous times, Cadet Bell. Things will undoubtedly grow even more dangerous. Your intention seems pure, but you rely on this girl's word. You don't know her intentions for certain. To be a mentor is to be responsible for her education in all regards. You take on the responsibility that she learns about this program, she learns of her options and what it takes to become part of this program." He looked at Katie evenly. She didn't look scared, which was a credit to her. Then again, she had over five months' time on the curse damage ward at St. Mungo's recently. There was precious little in the file regarding that damage, and he felt it played a large role in her desire to do well. "No response to what I said?"

"This is all true," Katie replied evenly. "There isn't a lot of information available regarding duties, but I assumed that my role would be more than simply handing out a brochure and saying a few nice things."

There was that edge to her tone again. He would have missed it if he hadn't looked for it. "You will need to have a supervisor of your own, of course, as well as clear a situation like this with the current Headmaster. She's a sixth year, and will not be taking NEWTS for some time. the Headmaster may not feel it's appropriate, especially given the political climate."

Katie nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, sir. I hadn't known about all of this. Assuming that I'm even considered a mentor candidate, who could I ask to be my supervisor?"

Stepanov smiled thinly. "Speak with the Headmaster. Then report back to me. We'll see what will become of this process depending on what the Headmaster believes."

Katie nodded. "Thank you, sir. I will take this into advisement," she murmured. "I will be a credit to the program."

"Oh, I'm sure you will," Stepanov replied, standing. He still had little sense of Katie as a Cadet, which was interesting. She wasn't trembling, wasn't rattled, and seemed thankful for his advice in a genuine manner. He wasn't used to quiet respect, especially in the current atmosphere of unease and disquiet. He was neutral in the upcoming conflict, hoping to keep the law as unsullied as possible. He would have to keep an eye on Katie to be sure she did the same. Regardless of political leaning, Cadets had to remain in good standing within the program.

***  
***


	2. Forming Alliances

_Now I see the truth, I got doubt  
A different motive in your eyes and now I'm out...  
Conclusions manifest, your first impression's got to be your very best  
I see you're full of shit, and that's all right  
That's how you play, I guess you'll get through every night_  
Trapt, "Headstrong"

It was hard to get used to a Hogwarts without Dumbledore, a Hogwarts run by Death Eaters and where Dark Arts was actively taught and used against students. Ginny ran into trouble in the first week of school. She had received an owl from Katie regarding the mentorship idea, and Katie had all but stated that they would be painting targets on themselves if they went through with the idea. _Are you sure this is what you want?_ Katie had asked.

Taking her anger out on Pansy Parkinson hadn't been the brightest of ideas, but the cow had been mouthing off that Harry Potter was a coward or dead, and that the world didn't belong to golden Gryffindors any longer. Ginny had been too upset to think rationally, hexing Pansy without checking to see where Filch or the Carrows were.

Amycus Carrow was only too glad to exact bloody revenge on Pansy's behalf, and Ginny was left to slink off somewhere to tend to her wounds.

"Shoo!" Moaning Myrtle hissed as Ginny went into that bathroom. It was closest to where the altercation in the hallway had been, and she really didn't want to have to answer to the other Gryffindors why she was covered in blood.

"But I just wanted to wash up in private, Myrtle. I won't even be long..."

"I have a boy with me. _My_ boy," Myrtle had said, her possessive tone grating. "I hid him in a stall so you won't see," Myrtle added when Ginny started looking around. There was a pair of feet in one of the stalls, so Myrtle wasn't telling any stories about that. "Now, you have to go. I told you, you're not the only one that comes to me."

Ginny sighed and rubbed at her face, feeling her hair fall into sticky clumps due to the blood from the head wound she had. "I won't say a word about your boy, Myrtle. I just want to wash off the blood, all right?"

"Go down below if you need to hide," Myrtle insisted. "I won't have the two of you saying nasty things to each other, and I won't have any more blood spilled here."

That should have been a clue, but Ginny was too tired to try to puzzle it out. She simply went to the tap and hissed the few parselmouth words she remembered. Her accent was much better in her dreams, of course, but the sink opened and she slid down the chute. She knew the tunnels beneath that area of the school, and it would get her to another girls' bathroom not that far away from Myrtle's.

She dimly realized that the boy exited the stall just as the sink was closing up behind her. It must have been a startling sight. But then, whoever knew about Myrtle must have heard her talking about the sink that led to the Chamber of Secrets.

Hopefully, Ginny hadn't just resigned herself to a year of being hunted.

***

It was only the second week at school, and Ginny was honestly considering dyeing her trademark Weasley red hair black.

She stamped into Myrtle's bathroom and ignored the affronted squawking that the ghost put up. She barely took in the sight of splayed legs over a robe on the floor, white uniform shirt untucked from the waist and shirt cuffs undone and rolled up before Myrtle zoomed in to block her view. "You have to go! I won't have any more blood shed in my bathroom!"

Ginny's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Whatever are you talking about? I'm just here to hide out a bit. You never objected before..."

"My boy is here," Myrtle hissed, and Ginny could see the vague shape rising to his feet behind Myrtle. "I won't have you hurting him."

"Don't be daft, Myrtle," Ginny told the ghost loftily. "Why would I want to hurt him?"

Draco Malfoy came into her view, collar undone and tie askew. His shirt hung on his thin frame, and she could see the edge of the Dark Mark beneath one of his rolled up shirt cuffs. He smirked at her shocked look. "Your precious Potter did. Why wouldn't you?"

Ginny wanted to deny Draco's words, but she vaguely remembered Harry talking about how he had bested Draco, that they had dueled and it had come out so much more horribly than he had planned it. Harry had been taken to task, and that was the last that Ginny had heard about it. No one had wanted to discuss it. "That was here?" she asked faintly. "The duel was here?"

"Duel?" he echoed, sneering. "That wasn't a proper duel. He surprised me and there were spells thrown at each other. And then he cut my chest open."

She shook her head at him, and Myrtle nodded at her mournfully. "But... Harry wouldn't do something like that. He wouldn't just attack someone."

"Even if it's me, Weasley?" he asked her snidely.

Draco had been surprised by the sight of red hair disappearing into the sink the week before, but now it made so much sense. If she had been the one used by the Heir of Slytherin, then Harry would have hated him for years for something he hadn't even known about. Harry would have misinterpreted his tears as rage for not killing them all off.

"I..." Ginny backed up a step, toward the door she had just come through. "I should go..."

He didn't even know why he caught her arm to stop her. It was her wand arm, so she couldn't hex him as she must have longed to do. He was casting aspersions on her precious Potter, and her loyalties would have had her do something about it.

But she simply pushed at his chest. "I'm not part of whatever it was between you two," she said firmly. "You might've made me part of it, but I refuse to be some pawn in whatever sick game you have going."

Draco was stunned at first, but burst into laughter. "That _I_ have going? Weasley, your poverty must have made you delusional. _He_ rejected _me. He _was clear enough about dismissing Slytherins out of hand without even getting to know us. _He_ thought he was too good for the rest of us just because he had his fawning fans. Don't talk to me about sick games when he's the one that started it."

She shook her head and pushed at his chest again. "You're the one that insults my family every chance you get. You're the one that harasses _us."_

Draco grasped her arms and pinned them to her sides. Over Myrtle's protests, he swung her around until he had her back shoved up against the wall and he was pinning her in place against the cold stones. "Don't play innocent. You're just as guilty of that, Weasley. You attack anyone that gets in the way of what you want. Everything has to be what you want."

"You're the one that let in those Death Eaters. You're the one that had Dumbledore killed, not me," Ginny hissed, struggling against him. He was stronger than he looked.

"If it was him or me, I'd choose him," Draco hissed back, teeth pulled back in a grimace and his eyes flashing. "But I didn't kill him, Weasley. I haven't killed anyone, haven't tortured anyone or left them for dead. Your side did that. If your hex didn't wear off, it might've gone on to kill me. Or your precious fucking Potter, leaving me to bleed to death." He pulled at his collar with one hand, exposing the skin of his upper chest. Pale scars stood out on already pale skin. "Don't play innocent. Your side is just as bad."

Ginny panicked and kneed him in the groin, pushing him away when he curled in on himself in pain. "Your side takes little girls and sacrifices them. Don't pretend you're better."

"I wasn't," Draco gasped. He saw Ginny's skittering steps back and away from him, and he was dimly aware that his wand was in his robes on the other side of the bathroom floor. Fuck.

"Stop it!" Myrtle cried, coming between them at last. She was wringing her hands. "You're both my friends, and you're hurting each other. Stop it! I won't allow that."

"I don't know why you'd be friends with him," Ginny said, contempt clear in her tone. "He's the most awful sort, just pretending he's human."

Myrtle tried to slap her, but her hand went right through Ginny's face. "Don't you say that," she cried, stamping her immaterial foot. "You don't know what he's been through. You don't know what they made him do."

Draco pulled himself to his feet using the sink. "Let her go, Myrtle," Draco said. "You can't fix this, all right. You can't fix me, you can't fix her, you can't fix anything."

"No!" Myrtle cried, turning to face Draco. "I got your Professor to save your life. I told the others about the sink and that's why they saved her. If not for me, you'd both be dead!" She stamped her foot again in anger. "I won't have you talking to me this way! Get out! Get out of my bathroom, both of you!"

Somehow, both Ginny and Draco found themselves on the other side of the bathroom door. His robes and wand were unceremoniously dumped on the floor in front of him. "Thanks for nothing, Weasley," Draco groused at her. "I was having a horrid enough day without you mucking things up further."

"You? You're one of them," she scoffed. "You couldn't possibly have as hard a day."

Draco shrugged on his robes and pulled his clothes back into place beneath them. "Believe it or not, Weasley, you know nothing about the world outside your little fantasies. You know _nothing_ about it."

Discomfited, Ginny watched him leave. She wondered why she didn't hex him, why she let him speak to her that way. But there was truth in what he said, a weary kind of truth. His face had been more pale than usual, with slight bags under his eyes. He hadn't actually hexed her, hadn't rushed to let anyone know where she was. She was the enemy, a rabble-rouser of the worst sort according to the Carrows, yet Draco said nothing. Though he had grabbed her, he hadn't actually tried to hurt her. He'd tried _talking_ to her.

Ginny felt almost guilty for her horrible thoughts about him, and that worried her more than his behavior. She didn't want to feel sorry for him, or understand what he was going through. She didn't want to understand the other side, didn't want it to be anything other than a clear and easy fight of Death Eater vs. Order of the Phoenix.

But she had the feeling that the world wasn't that clear, and this war was anything but easy to figure out. And she had the sick feeling she owed Draco Malfoy an apology for her assumptions about him, even though she had no intention of doing so.

They saw each other next three days later. A knot of six Slytherin boys, some of them the sons of Death Eaters, had her cornered in a hallway near the Dark Arts classroom. She was already bruised, with a cut on her lip, and the boys all had their wands out. Hers was suspended over her head. She refused to back down, her fisted hands defiantly raised at her sides.

"Six against one wandless witch?" Draco asked, eyebrow raised as he came up behind the boys. They were all sixth years, the same year as Ginny. He knew them, of course, and one of the boys was even a Prefect. "Hardly sporting."

The Prefect guffawed. "She's a Gryffindor. That's sporting enough."

Draco took the boy's wand and snapped it in half before his startled eyes. "Now that's sporting, don't you think?"

The boy's jaw clenched in anger. "Just because you have your Mark..."

"Yes, I do," he said, voice silky and cold. The other boys edged away slightly. "Don't forget where you are and where _he_ is."

The boy paled and the other boys clearly backed away from Draco. "You failed. My father said so," the boy told him.

"Would _he_ stay with failures?" Draco asked, seeing Ginny start to edge away from the little gathering. She would back herself up into the Dark Arts classroom soon enough, and without her wand the Carrows would shred her to ribbons. Draco tossed the Prefect's wand down the hall in the opposite direction. "Go and figure out what you want to do in the upcoming regime. Taunting idiot girls won't help you."

"She's a muggle-loving bitch," one of the other boys said, raising his wand to aim it at her.

"That goes for you as well," Draco said thinly. "I don't think this looks well for your chances of doing anything constructive for _him."_

Reluctantly, the boys disbanded. Draco plucked Ginny's wand from where it hung suspended, and handed it to her. She grabbed it from him, obviously distrustful. "What do you want?" she asked almost resentfully.

"Really, Weasley. Don't be more stupid than you can help."

"Then why help me?" She asked, pulling her robes tighter over her shoulders. "What do you get out of it?"

"Myrtle can stop prattling on and on about how 'nice' you can be when you're not possessed by demons," Draco spat. "Don't put me in that position again, Weasley. There's talk enough as it is."

No one had seen them exit Myrtle's bathroom, so Ginny doubted it was talk at Hogwarts. She surmised it was talk amongst the Death Eater ranks, just as the Slytherin Prefect had indicated. If Draco was a failure in their eyes, what would this incident say about him?

"Thank you."

Draco turned back toward her. "What?"

"Thank you," Ginny said, a trifle louder. The words seemed less grudging this time. "For sending them away and not doing anything."

"I don't rape little girls," Draco returned, voice tight and angry. He took in the way she paled further and realized that she hadn't thought of that as a possibility. "Just... Stay out of trouble if you can. No one's here to save you."

"Why are you helping me?" Ginny asked, the words rushing forth before he could move.

_Damned if I know,_ Draco thought. He took in her pale face, the freckles standing out on the bridge of her nose. She wasn't completely awful, but she wasn't his kind, either.

"Because Myrtle calls you a friend. Nothing more."

She nodded and he left without a backward glance. She didn't mean anything. Myrtle could stop prattling about her now, and he could resume his brooding in the bathroom. It was sheer idiocy that had her up against six boys; even thought of her trying to take on six Slytherins made Draco feel vaguely ill. His mother had always stressed social niceties to him, had drilled it into him that certain behaviors were just forbidden toward Purebloods and ladies of any sort. His aunt was an obvious exception, but some things simply were not done. The war was changing things in the social circles, and Draco had seen his mother's reaction to them. She wasn't pleased with how the Death Eaters were changing society, how the constant threat of death and torture wore people down to the heartless degenerates that the Dark Lord wanted them to be. Narcissa still had her dreams of making a good society match for Draco, but that society was changing now. Their sort was growing dark and twisted, corruption eating their ranks from the inside out. Draco was too young to really count toward the upper echelons, but he could see what they were becoming. All semblance of civility was starting to fade.

That wasn't a world he wanted to live in, but he didn't have a choice in the matter at all.

***

Ginny was sitting in an abandoned classroom waiting for Neville. She was starting to think that he would never come, that she was going to be caught after hours by herself. Maybe he had already been caught, and that was why she was waiting alone. It was almost midnight, and she was tired. They needed to restart the DA somehow, but there were too many frightened students in the castle. Too few wanted to fight, too few wanted to put themselves in the position where they might be seriously hurt.

Cowards, one and all. If they didn't fight, pretty soon there would be nothing left worth fighting for anyway.

She turned her head when the classroom door opened. It wasn't Neville.

It was Draco sodding Malfoy.

She rose to her feet in silence, wand at the ready in case he shot a hex at her. He was well within his right to bind her and throw her into detention with the Carrows. His goons had done it just the day before.

But he simply stared at her for a long moment. "No taunting?" he asked finally.

"Maybe you're not worth my time," she replied.

"Oh, I'm worth a dozen of you."

"Not with that mark on your arm. Now you're not worth much of anything."

"The only thing of worth about you is your unsullied bloodlines," Draco said, his lip curling. "I at least do something about it."

"By shedding blood you don't like," Ginny retorted, eyes blazing. "Hardly worthy of anything."

"Only in your eyes, apparently."

"Being demented and blind isn't something most people boast about."

"I've a fortune, power and a position in society. You have nothing but your ridiculous hair."

"You've a position on your knees before a halfblood madman," Ginny replied haughtily. She laughed at his start of surprise. "Didn't know that about him, did you? He's not as pure as he wants people to believe. Tom was always sneaky."

Draco's mouth was dry and his heart thudded in his chest. There were rumors that the Dark Lord wasn't quite what he said he was, that even his most trusted followers had their reservations. He didn't know what his father would think if he knew that he had kissed the robes of a halfblood, when blood purity and privilege was everything to the elder Malfoy. Draco would prefer staying alive and surviving the catastrophes ahead.

"Nothing to say?" Ginny taunted at his silence. If he hadn't done anything yet, he probably wasn't going to hex her. Even if he did, she had a number of very good hexes and curses at her disposal that she could shoot at him. She wasn't afraid of his pale, pinched face. He was worried about something, and that meant there was weakness somewhere. If she could figure out what it was, exploit it somehow so that she could get away, she would.

That sounded uncomfortably like Tom Riddle, but Ginny ignored the feeling.

"I'll speak when you say something that's worthy of a dignified response."

"You're so full of yourself, Malfoy," Ginny said, her lip curling in derision. "But I don't see your bodyguards here with you. You're here, all alone, no backup. You aren't as good as you think you are," she taunted.

"You're just one little girl," Draco said, stalking forward. He was gratified to see her wand fly up as he did so. "I don't need backup when it's just you."

For an impossible moment, when Draco fell into the shadows of the room, it almost looked like Tom stalking toward her. He had similar determined features, the Slytherin patch on his school robes and his wand out and ready but still in a relaxed pose.

Ginny drew back her wand to start her hex, but he was already in front of her and grasping her wrist tightly. The syllables of her hex never got said. She stared him in the eye, determined not to show her fear. He could do anything, anything at all.

But he released her. "You're an idiot, Weasley."

"Why are you here, then?" she asked. They've done this sort of dance in the past two weeks, ever since she had discovered he was the one that Myrtle had meant. There was no one to ask to confirm his story of events; most of the other seventh years believed Harry implicitly and none of them had been there.

"I've never seen someone so hell-bent on destroying herself for someone that doesn't care."

The words struck Ginny right in the chest; she never admitted it, but it had felt as though Harry had thrown her away after Dumbledore's funeral. Oh, she knew they were utterly wrong for each other, but the illusion had been nice while it lasted. The fantasy of being Harry's girlfriend and the reality of it were completely different. He could be thoughtless at times, frighteningly in tune at others. Yet he never remembered her past trauma, and had glossed over her possession as easily as everyone else had. She wasn't his first concern, and never would be.

Ginny lifted her chin a fraction. "So what brought on your morbid interest?"

Damned if he knew. "It would be a shame to lose a sparring partner just when she seems to have gotten to a level worthy of me."

She lifted an eyebrow at his droll tone. "You haven't seen me try sparring with you."

Draco smiled, and he seemed almost handsome then. Oh, his features were still pale and thin, but the smile lit up his face. He didn't seem so worn out in places, so tired. He seemed more like any other privileged boy meeting a girl after hours, and Ginny could almost believe the whispers that had circulated about Draco being handsome and a good kisser.

She couldn't believe she was actually thinking this way, and believed it even less when he actually leaned his head down to kiss her.

Ginny sputtered when he let her go and headed out of the classroom door. "What was that for?"

"You seemed to expect it." Draco nodded at her, a smug tilt to his lips. "And ten points from Gryffindor for being caught after hours out of bounds. You ought to get to bed before I think about taking any more."

Resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him or wipe off her mouth on the back of her hand, Ginny simply left the classroom as well. If they both seemed to stare at each other a little too long or hard, she wasn't going to say anything about it.

***

_Katie, what if I wasn't your only protégée?_ Ginny wrote the next day. _What if there was another student to counterbalance my apparent allegiances?_

She bit her lip and looked at what she had written. Katie didn't owe her anything, and she had no way to know if Draco could be trusted. But he hadn't harmed her in any way for the past month and had even come to her defense. And while neither of them were trying at the time, his kiss had actually been kind of nice. She wondered how good it would feel if both of them were trying to kiss each other, if they had any reason at all to want to kiss each other.

She was mental, that was all.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Ginny finished off her letter and sent it, hinting that the Slytherin Seeker might be a good choice.

Two days later was Katie's terse reply: _Sounds like a working plan. Will try this._

***

Katie arranged to meet with Headmaster Snape. He looked down his hooked nose at her, the same as he always did. She used to be scared of him, in that abstract kind of way she was afraid of surly people making her life difficult. Potions hadn't been her favorite subject, but he at least had been fair regarding her uneven efforts. Following her curse damage, he had personally undertaken her Potions tutoring. Some evenings he seemed almost livid going into the sessions, but Katie had fared worse from the necklace. She could see his grumbling wasn't directed at her, but at whoever he had tutored before her.

It was strange meeting him in the Headmaster's office, to see him glower where Dumbledore used to twinkle and smile. "Headmaster," Katie said in an even tone.

"I received your owl," he said abruptly "You didn't mention the student. Which of these students may choose an illustrious career?" he sneered. "Longbottom?"

"Ginny Weasley."

Snape eyed Katie, though she couldn't tell if he was wary or amused. "You be deluded if you think this is a safe idea for either of you."

His tone made it clear he thought she was being terribly thick. "If you believe she's not ready for this, please let me know," Katie replied sweetly. "She expressed interest to me, even though she's a sixth year, so that she could choose her electives accordingly next term and next year."

Snape steepled his hands and looked at her. "You must be close to her to expose yourself to such scrutiny on her behalf."

Talk amongst the Order members was that Snape played Dumbledore for a fool. Or was playing both sides. Or simply a selfish bastard saving his own skin. Katie could understand all of the possibilities, but she had to work with what she had.

"We played quidditch together," Katie replied with a shrug. "She expressed interest. If there are any other students that have an interest, I'd be willing to mentor them as well. If Ginny's motives are suspect, you can always suggest another student whose loyalties are known."

Snape lofted an eyebrow at her. "Oh?"

"Perhaps Draco Malfoy," Katie continued in a breezy tone. "I understand he's a trustworthy sort. He might be able to help you trust Ginny Weasley's motives if you're unsure of them."

"You play a dangerous game, Miss Bell," Snape said, his voice dangerously smooth. He eyed her bland face. "You step into treacherous waters."

"Life is full of treacherous waters," she replied easily.

Snape tried to push into her mind with Ligilmency, but he abruptly hit a silver wall. He couldn't go past it, no matter how hard he pushed at it.

"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

Katie was with the Order, he was sure of it. He had no proof, nothing but his sense about her. He was rarely wrong about it, and it saved his life on more than one occasion. Snape merely raised his eyebrow at her, much in the way he used to intimidate his students. She had that guileless expression on her face, but he knew there was something beneath the surface. He had that feeling when he was tutoring her as well. "You've come a long way in the past several months," he told her. He wasn't even triumphant when a muscle in her jaw ticked.

"I suppose I have, sir," Katie said slowly. "My program doesn't share that belief."

"Explain," Snape said in a commanding tone.

She hadn't meant to mention it, but it was as good a time as any. "Most of the other Cadets knew each other a long time or were involved in the program before in some way. I wasn't. So I've been second guessed by everyone there, questioned if I really want this. The best way to do that is to become a mentor."

Snape eyed her taut form, the square set of her jaw. She had grown serious since her curse damage, quietly angry and pushing at everyone's conceptions of her. Once vibrant and full of laughter on the Gryffindor quidditch team, Katie dressed severely and didn't seem to have any sense of joy any longer. She was determined and somber, and he could only imagine the kind of horror the curse damage had put her through. "It won't be an easy task," he told her, his voice just as grave as hers.

"I don't ask for easy," Katie replied, an edge to her voice. "I'm asking for others to respect my decisions and abilities. This is what it'll take for me to get it."

He didn't have to agree with her request. He could bundle her back home, a scathing litany of insults hurled at her back. He could simply suggest she be dropped from her program for the sheer impertinence she had shown.

But he respected her actions, just as he had respected her for working twice as hard as anyone else in his classes to catch up on the work she missed. Katie had appreciated the tutoring, and had written him a thank you card for his efforts with her. Snape knew he had been a downright surly bastard on some nights, but she never complained about it or about the workload he had thrown at her. She graduated on time and with a respectable number of NEWTS despite her missing time.

"We'll give it a try," Snape said, nodding. "Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy will be in your charge for this mentorship. If it doesn't work out, I will withhold my approval."

Katie nodded gratefully and rose from the chair to shake his hand. "Thank you, sir."

Snape shook it and watched her leave. She was another casualty of the war, but at least she hadn't been destroyed by it.

***

Draco stayed very still as Snape told him about the mentorship idea that Katie Bell had proposed for Ginny Weasley. _Of all the fucking stupid things to do..._ he couldn't help but think. Ginny was going to get herself killed. And she was going to drag Katie down with her. He felt bad enough about what had happened to the chaser—former chaser, he had to remind himself. Her skills weren't the same after she had returned from St. Mungo's, and the Slytherin chasers and beaters didn't spare as much time to strategize against her. It was his fault Katie Bell had nearly died, and he was fully aware of that fact. He didn't know if Snape knew that, but he was fairly certain that Snape was aware of much more than Draco gave him credit for.

"I'll do Slytherin House proud," Draco told Snape, feeling that it must be what the Headmaster was looking for.

Snape looked down his long nose at Draco. "Is this something you want for your future?"

"It'll do well enough, I suppose," Draco began.

Snape glared at Draco. "Is this something you want? Is this a purposeful action for you?"

"What are you getting at?"

"You've let too much happen to you by chance. You haven't actively planned anything in some time, and even then you're hiding." Snape curled his lip in disdain at Draco. "You're still a boy pretending to be a man, and you haven't even realized that yet."

The words stung, though Draco managed not to show it. "My parents and I always assumed I'd simply enjoy a life of leisure in the new regime," he said, making his voice as haughty as he could. "There was no need to actually learn a skill."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose in impatience, muttering something about how youth was utterly wasted on the young. "Very well. You'll go ahead with this farce until it finally occurs to you to actually want something out of your future."

Draco didn't know what the big deal was, but let the conference slip from his mind as soon as he left the Headmaster's office. The thought of being near Katie Bell was somewhat unsettling, as he was still somewhat vaguely guilty. He could deal with that, especially since Katie didn't know it was his fault she had been carrying that locket. Ginny would be the problem for him, since he wasn't entirely opposed to seeing her again.

He didn't question his motives too closely. Therein lay too many more questions than he wanted to answer, and too many urges he couldn't satisfy.

***  
***


	3. Knowing The Names Of Things

_ You have sliced your numbness open  
with the blades of your own eyes.  
From your years of watching  
you have grown the pupils of a cat, to see_

in the dark. And these eyes are  
your blessing. They will always know the poison  
from the jewels that are both embedded  
in your flesh.  
They will always know the darkness  
that is one of your names by now,  
but not the one you answer to.  
Barbara Kingsolver, "Remember the Moon Survives"

The training session was brutal, and Katie bit back every curse and cry she wanted to let loose. Any whining would be looked down upon, and it would be used against her. She could no right in the program, and she was always wrong. Stepanov might have been her supervisor, but he was definitely not doing her any extra favors. It was unsettling to feel his eyes on her during their meetings every month, and she was constantly searching herself for any poor behavior that would make him want to throw her out of the program.

She was just so _angry_ all the time. Everything set her off, all the whispers and snide remarks and sidelong glances in the hallways. They were trying so hard to wind her up, and it felt like it was working on the inside. It didn't matter if she had been through worse, if she had come back from the brink of death. This _hurt_ and it wouldn't stop until she was done with all of her training. It couldn't come soon enough, as far as she was concerned.

Katie went to the owlery attached to the training building. Few of the other Cadets bothered with it, so it was always a quiet place for her to think and calm down. Sometimes she wrote letters to her parents. She could be candid with them in ways she could never be with Alicia or Angelina or the Weasley twins. Angelina was in the Auror program and doing well, even with the current climate. Alicia was flying on Falmouth Falcons' reserve team and dating everyone in sight, looking fabulously happy. The twins were getting on with the shop and helping the Order. Some of her other friends from school had fallen away from her when she had become too focused in her remaining seventh year. Or she had fallen away from them, she wasn't sure which. But the friendships hadn't withstood the strain, and she certainly hadn't made any friends in the law enforcement training program.

She could tell her parents about these things. They expected her to, and would have been worried if she didn't confide in them. Her mother especially wanted to know these things. They were both lower level Ministry employees, but the family was comfortable and firmly middle class in their little wizarding village. Katie could close her eyes and remember her little house, the park nearby and the silly children she had been friends with before she had gone to Hogwarts. She'd known some of the older children in the village, and had always tried to play against them. Marcus Flint was four years older and twice as mean as any boy her age, but he had always been fair in the village. He hadn't been the kind to simply pull on her ponytail or make fun of her just because he could. On the quidditch pitch was a different story, but that she understood and expected.

The other Cadets were different, though. They went out of their way to make her miserable, to try and trip her up so that she would fail out. Every time she didn't only seemed to make them more determined to best her. Katie kept pushing herself, but it never seemed to be good enough. She would never let them see her cry, the bloody wankers. She never let on how much it hurt to be in this position, how much she wished to have even one friend out of the lot.

It was only October. She had until the end of December, and then the program was done. Katie was leaning toward taking the optional extra six month program before formally enrolling in the Artifact Investigation program. It would give her a stronger background as well as show her commitment to the job. The Artifact Investigation program was a very small one, only ten people maximum allowed to enroll. Most of the time, it had six. Katie thought perhaps she would be one of those, but wanted to be absolutely certain.

The usual owl that took her letters to her mum lighted onto her shoulder. Katie smiled and retreated to her usual corner of the owlery to compose a letter to her mum. She was meeting with Ginny and Draco soon enough, and it wouldn't help to be seen glowering at them as if she hated the idea of mentoring them.

***

"You want to be an Auror?" Draco asked, curious as they waited for Katie to arrive by floo in one of the faculty conference rooms.

Ginny traced the wood grain in the table they were sitting at. "Something like that. My brother's a Curse Breaker. I was thinking of being a Rune Hunter."

Draco didn't laugh at her the way she expected him to. He looked thoughtful instead. "It's probably... interesting?" he offered finally. "What do they even do?"

"They're the experts in runes and runic derivations on things. So think of wards and advanced level potions needing enchantments on them. That's what I want to do."

"No offense, Weasley, but I wouldn't want you anywhere near my family's wards."

Ginny snickered. "Too afraid I'd add something in there to turn your hair blue?"

"I was thinking of your reputation," Draco returned smoothly. "It would look bad for you if you couldn't figure them out."

Ginny's response was cut off by the roar of the fire turning green and Katie appearing through the flames. She dusted off her Cadet robes and looked at her two protégées. "You both seem to be doing fairly well," she said by way of greeting.

"Still alive, for all that counts," Ginny said in response.

"I have top marks now," Draco told Katie.

It was odd, to know that he was the one that had ruined her seventh year when she didn't. She wasn't exactly friendly with him, but she didn't look at him with the fear and loathing that she probably would have had otherwise. Draco almost wanted to tell her, to ask if she could forgive him for nearly destroying her. But she hadn't been the target of that locket, and she had been nothing more than an innocent bystander. Collateral damage, his father had said. His father hadn't even cared that Katie was a Pureblood from an old wizarding village in the north, that her parents were neutral in the war. Narcissa had been shocked by the turn of events, but Draco could hear her unspoken thoughts: _Better her than you._

Katie pulled up a chair in front of them and put down her satchel. "All right. Have you gotten a chance to look at that extra reading I gave you last time?"

The standard promotional pamphlets had been what she had started with, as well as answering any questions they had based on that. Their next meeting had been full of recommendations for classes and some extra readings for Defense Against the Dark Arts, especially since they were no longer covering defense at school.

They went through what they had read, and it turned into a fairly lively discussion regarding defensive and offensive strategies. Draco had a tendency toward strong defense, Ginny was so focused on offense that sometimes she didn't defend herself properly. "This turned out to be a really good balance, then," Katie told them with a grin. "The two of you make a solid team if you take everything into account."

Ginny blinked and looked at Draco as if she had never seen him before. Considering she had only thought of him as a reasonable alternative of all the potential Death Eaters, he had turned out to be a better sort of bloke than she had ever given him credit for. "I suppose you're right," she said cautiously.

"I'd have to ask the Headmaster if I'm allowed to do spellwork with you and not just theory," Katie mused. "I think it would be nice to actually see how the dueling would work."

Ginny looked down at the table darkly. "It probably won't be a good idea. There's enough dueling and spellwork at the moment."

Katie frowned at Ginny. "What are you talking about?"

"We told you that it's just the Dark Arts now," Ginny began, her tongue feeling thick and heavy in her mouth. She didn't want to admit how many times she'd been cursed or hexed by her fellow classmates, how alone she felt as one of the few sixth year Gryffindors left.

"We're supposed to practice the curses on each other," Draco supplied when Ginny didn't continue speaking. "There are more Gryffindor seventh years than sixth years right now."

The irrational anger that had plagued Katie for months flared, and for a moment she thought that even Draco could see the curse scars she carried. But the moment passed, and she had control of her anger again. "I see." She pursed her lips, looking for all the world as if she was just vaguely annoyed at something. Not enough milk for her coffee, perhaps. "Well, then. I'll have to teach you a few spells to protect yourselves."

"Look, it's not—" Draco began. He wasn't the one on the receiving end of most curses.

But Katie had already stood up, her wand in hand. "The first thing you should know is a simple pain blocking spell. It takes the edge off of the worst spells, even Cruciatus."

Both teens goggled at her. "How do you know that?" Ginny asked.

"It's part of our training. We cast the spell on ourselves and an instructor puts us under. Another instructor monitors us to be sure we don't get hurt by the exercise." She looked at their shock and merely shrugged. "Sometimes the only way to find out if you can do something is to just do it and see what happens."

Draco accepted that explanation, but Ginny still looked horrified. "But..."

"They'd have to withstand torture, Weasley," Draco told her flatly. "So would you, if you manage to join up." Draco didn't mention his own future; he wasn't sure what he wanted to do with it, and he already knew more than enough about torture already.

"Well, this takes the edge off, and it depends on how well you manage to cast it," Katie told them, looking at them both closely. "I'm not telling you to go casting Unforgiveables at each other, but I'm sure it will at least come in handy."

She taught them the spell, which felt as though it coated their nerve endings in cool jelly. Katie didn't mention that even a partially numbed Cruciatus hurt like hell, or that she was the only one in her class still able to stand up after their instructors cast the curse on them. She had felt worse with the cursed necklace, so she was able to put it into perspective. The pain from Cruciatus was as much mental as physical; while the body was under excruciating pain, the mind could worsen that even further simply by believing in it. Katie had gone into the class knowing she tolerated more pain than the instructors could imagine, so it hadn't affected her as badly as the others. The other Cadets hated her for it, for staggering about but still standing. If it had been a real duel, she would have been able to cast something back at her attacker. The others would have continued to suffer until their attackers felt like stopping.

"I'll see you next month, then," Katie said at the close of their meeting. "Unless you want to meet up sooner than that? I wouldn't want to give you too much extra work."

"Maybe two weeks?" Ginny suggested. "You could teach us some more useful spells like this."

Katie waited until Draco nodded as well. "All right, then. Two weeks, same time as this." She smiled, though both teens could tell that it was nothing like her previous smiles used to be.

Ginny pulled Katie aside before she could go through the floo. She glared at Draco, indicating that he should at least turn around to give them a semblance of privacy. Rolling his eyes, he did as she asked. He missed the parchment that Ginny slipped into Katie's pocket. "Is there anything for nightmares?" she asked, knowing full well that Draco was listening.

"Which ones are these?"

"From... Well, from a while ago," Ginny murmured. "I don't want a draught. They don't do much but suppress them, so that the nightmares are even worse or more frequent once I stop. But they've come more often since school started."

Katie frowned at Ginny. She could tell this was more than just a ruse for whatever Ginny really wanted to know. "I'm no head healer..." she began, spreading her arms out helplessly. She had a hard enough time dealing with her own nightmares.

"Yeah, I know, but... What do you do with yours? How do you stop them?"

Katie rubbed at her face, seeing the silver cracks beneath her skin that she couldn't feel. "I don't, Ginny," she said, weariness seeping into her voice. "I just keep going, that's all."

"How can you keep going, though?" Ginny asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draco turned around to stare at them in wonder, not sure what to say. He wasn't meant to hear this, but he had never thought there might be effects past the obvious ones.

Katie swept Ginny up into a tight hug. "You'll keep going because you have a goal in mind. You have to keep moving, that's all. Some days are better than others, but you'll keep moving. Mind, it's tough and no one will ever understand how badly it hurts sometimes, but you _will_ be able to do it. I know that for a fact."

Ginny pulled away and discreetly wiped at her eyes. "Thanks. Maybe I just needed to hear that."

Nodding, Katie smiled gently at her. "It helps to know there's at least one person willing to listen when the time comes. Do you need me to stay a bit?"

"I..." She turned and caught Draco's expression, the way his lips parted in surprise and shock. "It isn't a good time now, I suppose."

"I'll head to Hogsmeade on your next weekend, then. I'll meet up with you and we'll talk over lunch, then."

"They're going to start canceling Hogsmeade weekends soon," Draco blurted suddenly. He didn't want to dash Ginny's hopes, but she had to know the truth. "Unless you've a pass or with someone that has a pass. They're going to start that just before hols, probably."

Ginny's shoulders slumped. "Well, there's some time, then."

"You'll make it work," Katie told her, giving her hand a squeeze of support. She wanted to tell Ginny that it got better with time. But Ginny had her interaction with a cursed object years ago and still had nightmares, so that would be a lie. The only thing Katie knew how to do at this point was fight, and that was the most advice she could give. Fight and fight and fight, and even when knocked down, fight some more. It was the only way she was able to battle her way out of St. Mungo's and back into school, then graduate on time and now do well in the law enforcement program. It was the only thing that helped ease the sick feelings her nightmares left her with.

Ginny watched her leave with a sigh. She was startled by Draco touching her arm gently, by the look of compassion on his face. She hadn't thought he was capable of it.

"Come on," he told her in a soft voice. "You'd better be heading back to the tower. You don't want to be caught out after hours again. There's only so much help I can give you."

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, her voice just as soft and hushed.

_Because you're a friend of Myrtle's. Because I like trading insults with you. Because you don't treat me like a pariah or an utter failure. Because you're pretty. Because I actually almost like you._ Any or all of the sentiments would have applied, but Draco couldn't say a single one of them. He merely shrugged and gestured for her to exit the conference room.

"You have to be doing this for a reason," Ginny insisted.

"Perhaps," Draco replied, sidestepping the question. "But I wouldn't tell you what it was, now would I?"

She accepted that, and they walked in silence to Gryffindor Tower. It was a comfortable silence, though, and Ginny wondered when she started thinking of Draco Malfoy as someone she could be comfortable around, especially after what his father had done to her. But he was courteous to her most of the time now, though they still had their verbal sparring matches.

If she didn't know any better, Ginny would have called Draco Malfoy a friend.

***

"Tell me about the nightmares," Draco asked Ginny. It was three weeks after she had mentioned them to Katie. They sometimes talked after hours, meeting up in a classroom that Draco suggested. It was an area Filch generally didn't frequent, and the other Death Eaters in the castle didn't bother with that particular area of the castle.

Ginny remembered the time she had mentioned them; she had pushed a letter into Katie's pocket, sharing information about the Death Eaters at the school, what classes were like and what kinds of things were said in the halls. Ginny had hoped it would be useful for the Order, that something could be done about it. Katie had sent her an owl a week later thanking her for information, though nothing could be done about it at all. Ginny supposed that she should be thankful Katie at least tried on her behalf.

Draco tolerated her silence. It wasn't an easy thing to talk about, and she had only mentioned it once. He had been reluctant to bring up the topic at all, but she had seemed to be more and more withdrawn as the term dragged on. It could be all the detentions she had gotten, all the times she and her little friends had tried to use the Room of Requirement to meet. Draco knew about the meetings, but hadn't said a word. He didn't exactly know why.

"Look, it's not a big deal," she began, shrugging at him.

"It was enough of a big deal to tell Bell," Draco pointed out. "Enough that you didn't want me hearing about it even though I wasn't that far away."

Ginny didn't deny that; though bringing up the nightmares had been something of a ruse at the time, they did exist and they did bother her. She remained silent for a while, rubbing the inside of her right wrist absently.

"I'm a friend, aren't I?" Draco asked quietly.

She looked up, startled. "What?"

"We talk sometimes. Spend time together... You spend as much time with me as you do Longbottom and the rest of that lot. We might say a lot of shite, but we don't actually hex each other to death. Nowadays, that's as close to friendship as anyone gets."

Ginny felt so sad for him, that friendship was measured by how little someone hurt him. "I suppose," she murmured. She quirked her lips into a smile. "That doesn't mean I want to discuss any nightmares with you. Or anyone else."

"Point," he allowed. "But they bother you. I can tell."

It should have bothered her that he could. She frowned at him to cover her confusion. "What do you mean, you can tell?"

"You're always tired in the morning, and you're distracted late in the evening, like you're trying to avoid sleep. You aren't rested, and sometimes your insults fall short of the mark." Draco leaned back and took in her appearance. "You're not even pushing me away very hard right now, are you? If you really wanted me to back off, you'd be walking out of that door."

That was true enough. Yet something in her wanted to stay. There was a certain amount of peace that came from talking to Draco, from sitting next to him and not having him expect anything at all from her. She could be whoever she was, whatever she wanted to be, and it didn't matter to him. He accepted her at face value and didn't ridicule her for wanting to join the law enforcement program, for wanting to be someone other than a pawn in an elaborate game or merely the girl walking in Harry Potter's shadow.

"I've had them since my first year," Ginny said quietly. She was looking at the chalkboard, not at him, and Draco moved closer to her. She spoke so faintly, any noise would have muffled the sound of her words. "I did a lot of awful things while possessed."

Draco didn't know all of the particulars of that time period, but he knew the gist of it. "So what are they about?"

Ginny looked at him, eyes wide and hopeless. "In my dreams I still know Parselmouth, and I still control the basilisk. I _like_ it."

He grasped her hand and she startled at the contact. Draco didn't know why he was doing any of this exactly. His mind kept circling back to the fact that she was Myrtle's friend, that she wasn't as horrible as he thought she was, and that he felt guilty enough for his role in how terrible things were at school for everyone. "Let's go," he said brusquely, pulling her to her feet.

"Where are we going?" she asked, starting to grow frightened. His gaze was intense on her, and though he hadn't done anything untoward yet, she was almost afraid that he was breaking under the pressure the other Death Eaters were putting on him. Would this be the time he finally caved and started torturing people?

But they were at Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

She pulled away from him, backing up against the bathroom wall. "Look, we'll just forget this whole thing," she offered. "We don't need to talk about it anymore..."

Draco was beside her, pulling her inside so that she faced the serpentine sinks. "I saw you that day Myrtle kicked you out. I didn't believe my eyes, but I knew it was you. Open it up."

Ginny shook her head. "This is stupid..."

"You need to see it," Draco told her, voice soft. "You need to see it for what it is, to know that it's there and it's not something you dreamed up. You need to see it and know it's over."

She looked at him then, really _looked,_ and the sense of being hunted fell away. He wasn't as bad as the Carrows or Snape or any of the other Death Eaters visiting the castle that liked to send curses her way. The red hair gave her away every time, and it was a target she couldn't easily hide. Draco wasn't treating her that way, for whatever reason, and she did trust him. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why.

Ginny stood in front of the tap and began to speak, a soft susurrus as the Parselmouth words began to form. _Open._

Draco was startled when the sink opened, even though he knew it should have. Ginny slid down the opening and waited for Draco to follow her before closing the sink up after them. She lit her wand and waited for Draco to do the same. "There's a whole network of tunnels beneath the castle and inside the walls. I explored a lot of the area a while ago, but I don't know the whole system. Just a few of the hallways in this wing, really."

"So you could probably get away from a lot more of the punishments than you do."

"Maybe," Ginny told him quietly. "I'd be leaving the others behind, though."

"Unless you brought them with you," Draco pointed out. He didn't know why he was advocating this at all, though the thought of Ginny under Crucio bothered him.

"I'd have to explain this, show people..." She looked at Draco and her lips curled in something resembling a smile. "No, I don't think so. What's happening is horrible enough, and they don't need to know what else is in the dark, do they?"

"What do you think is in the dark, then?" Draco asked, curious.

"More monsters," Ginny said quietly. "More Death Eaters and pain and horrible things. I know it's real, even if they don't yet."

Draco didn't have the heart to tell her how bad it would get, that there were plans for coercing parents using their children, that the children themselves were sometimes targets. Some of the Death Eaters visiting his parents were actively looking for likely Order members out of the children and torturing them before they could join up. He suspected that some of Ginny's punishments and attacks were in the same vein.

Ginny led him through the tunnels, her breath growing more erratic as they went. She was afraid, he realized, and he reached out to grasp her hand tightly. She looked at him uncertainly, a vulnerable expression on her face. Draco felt a swift possessive and protective urge rise in him, and he couldn't have explained why she suddenly mattered to him. This was more than caring because she was Myrtle's friend, too. This was more than realizing she was a capable witch in her own right that had a wicked sense of humor.

"I'm here with you," he murmured, looking at her rising panic. "I'll help."

"I'm only going back because you're here," she said, her voice breaking. "Sometimes I'm afraid he's still there, waiting in the dark." _Sometimes I still hear him,_ she wanted to say, but no one knew about that, really.

Harry had never asked her about it, and suddenly Ginny _hated_ him for that. He could easily forget about everyone's pain, and Ginny would always remember.

Draco slid his hand along her arm, until he touched her shoulder. Her eyes were wide, watching him, and he moved closer. He was close enough to see every freckle on her face, the flutter of her lips and the way her eyelashes curled. "If he's there," Draco began slowly, not knowing precisely who this "he" should have been, "he'll have to get through me first."

"Thank you," Ginny whispered, grasping hold of his arm tightly.

Together they walked through the tunnels. Ginny pointed out the claw marks, the scrapes where basilisk scales had banged into the walls. Draco was a calming presence beside her, and she found herself telling him things about her first year, that damned diary and how alone she had been. Draco didn't laugh, and kept asking questions. He listened, and he seemed to understand what she had felt.

And then he told her about repairing the Vanishing Cabinet, knowing that everyone expected him to fail. His parents had been threatened, and he knew his life would be forfeit as well. He hadn't been able to kill anyone, hadn't been able to cross that line. But Snape had on his behalf, because his mother had known he wouldn't be able to kill. Draco had been an angry boy with petty schoolboy rivalries, but he wasn't a killer. Crabbe and Goyle had started to pull away from him, or perhaps he had been more shirty with them than normal.

They stepped into the large open space that had once held the basilisk. Ginny's hand tightened on Draco's arm, and they stood there staring at the shadows. Draco created an illumination ball the way Katie had taught them, and let it hang suspended in the air. It lit up the cavern, and the stone face across the area stared at them.

"Salazar Slytherin, I suppose," Draco guessed. Ginny nodded. "Ugly bloke, wasn't he?"

Startled, Ginny began to laugh. "Yeah, he was, wasn't he?"

Draco slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She didn't protest, and it only just occurred to him that perhaps she should have. But it was nice that she didn't. He could smell her shampoo and the subtle perfume she wore, could feel the way her body molded against his. It was comfortable and soothing, though he couldn't have said why. They were in a cold, damp cavern that had once housed a basilisk. This was the place of her nightmares, the place where she had nearly died.

He kissed her forehead. Ginny tilted her face up, contemplating his face. Draco looked at her, almost expectant, waiting for her to say something. She knew that he would say something supportive. Or be sarcastic if she was feeling sorry for herself, making her laugh. She hadn't been expecting this from him, but this was exactly what she needed. After a moment, she leaned in and kissed his mouth.

It wasn't exactly spectacular, as far as kisses went. Not that she really had many toe-curling ones at this point, but she knew this one wasn't it. The kiss was gentle pressure and chapped lips, noses bumping and eyes wide open. But it held the promise of more, of so much more, and Ginny couldn't help but smile as she pulled back. Draco seemed stunned.

"I think I can do better than that, yeah?" she asked him teasingly. Before he could answer her, she leaned in again to kiss him.

This kiss was soft and tentative, but deepened as Draco's hands wound through her hair. Her cold hands rested on his shoulders, pulling him even closer. Her mouth opened beneath his, and his tongue slipped inside to taste her. His arms moved down, holding her close, and Ginny felt safe for the first time all year.

Ginny ended the kiss first, drawing back for breath. Her emotions were simmering close to the surface. Draco could suddenly read her easily, as if her thoughts were his own. She needed someone to accept her as she was; she was flawed and shattered, but had somehow pieced herself back together in to this hopeful and strong girl that no one else could see. Draco cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead lightly.

"This is just a cave now," Draco began, lips quirking into a smile. "With a really ugly statue sitting in it. Wanna break it?"

Ginny laughed. "I would love to."

Casting _Reducto_ had never felt so good.

***  
***


	4. In The Shadow Of Flames

_Where do I put the lies  
There's so many I could say...  
Have I been telling lies to myself?  
Hold me now you know  
I am so afraid to be at all  
Have I been telling lies to myself?  
Hold me now you know  
I am so afraid to love at all  
Where do I put the love?_  
Vast, "Here"

Cadet Gerard Browning was an utter ass, but there was nothing that Katie could do about it. She had her meetings with Ginny and Draco, her meetings with Stepanov, her classes, her readings and her practicals. There was no time to corner Browning, no time to do more than ignore the teasing that she was worth more on her back than on her feet and the laughter from the other Cadets. If Stepanov ever asked about the training, Katie would only reply that she was learning, and she never brought up the teasing. Browning was the worst of it, but he was hardly the only one. Stepanov couldn't be expected to fight her battles for her, and really, Katie wouldn't have wanted him to. She wanted him to see her as capable, wanted him to be proud of having her as a supervisee. She wanted him to grant her approval into the advanced training program and then the Artifact Investigation program afterward. She couldn't afford the self pity that telling him would dredge up. There was too much to do.

But she was oh so tempted to knock his teeth in or give him even a smattering of the pain she had felt under the cursed locket. And the temptation was growing by the day.

Two weeks before she had to write her exams, Katie was ready to snap. Her parents had always been willing to let her stay with them if she was too upset, and she hadn't been willing to oblige them before. Tonight was a different story.

She apparated to her childhood home just after dinner. She hadn't been much in the mood for eating, and her mother would have pushed too much food at her. As it was, there was just dessert left, and Katie willingly took up a slice of cake her mother had baked. She listened to her parents talk about the village life, about their work at the Ministry. It was tense in the Ministry, but they were low level administrators, not in a position of power at all. They were largely unaffected by the changes that were happening, and Katie was glad of that. The village was growing tense as well; it was an old Pureblood village, and there were people on both sides of the divide as well as those who were impartial like her parents.

Curled up on the couch beside her mother, Katie felt most of her tension eased. Her father excused himself to go to bed early, since he had to go in to work the next morning early. He dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. "Good night, Kates," he said with a fond smile. "I'm sure whatever's troubling you will take care of itself."

Katie smiled up at her father. "Thanks, Dad. I think I just needed some cake and time away from the program. It's intense."

"Of course it is," he said with a laugh. "But you're more than a match for it, Kates."

Katie leaned against her mother and watched her father climb the stairs to the bedrooms with a sigh. "When did I start feeling so old?" she asked with a sigh.

Her mother laughed. "That's my line, Katie." They laughed together for a moment. "Go on, then. Out with it. What did that tosser say to you this time?"

"How do you know...?"

"I read your letters, sweetie. C'mon. You've come home for a reason..."

So Katie wound up telling her mother about Browning's comments, about how frustrating it was to deal with all of the titters behind her back. She'd never been one of the popular ones, but she'd never been so universally disliked before either. She sat off to the side in classes, alone at lunch and only grudgingly got assistance from anyone the professors partnered her with in practicals. No one looked at her otherwise, and she felt so lonely and weary sometimes. "It's like I'm losing focus of why I'm doing this. I'm just struggling so hard to get through the day, and I hate them all for making me feel this way," she whined.

Her mother slid an arm around Katie. "Come on, then. You need another slice of cake."

"Mum, cake does _not_ solve everything."

"No, but in this case, it'll help put things into perspective. Trust me."

Dubiously, Katie returned to the kitchen with her mother. It was warmer than she remembered it being, but figured perhaps her parents hadn't yet turned down the heat in the house. She stared at the slice in front of her and gripped the fork in her fist. "This is a lot of cake, Mum."

Her mother laughed. "Yes, it is. Do you think you could finish it tonight?"

She pulled a face. "I _love_ your cakes, Mum. Of course I could."

"And how are you going to do that? One forkful at a time, right?" Katie nodded at her mother, shooting her a look that clearly said _Obviously!_ "Well, it's the same way to finishing your program, isn't it?" She took up a fork of her own and took a corner of the slice to eat. "It helps if someone is with you, of course. But you could still do it all your own."

Katie smiled and nodded. "You're absolutely right, Mum."

"Of course I am," her mother agreed. "Now if your fool brother would realize that, I'd be a happy woman. I've an owl from him now. That girlfriend of his is going to get the both of them killed, if he's not careful."

"Why? What did she do now?"

"Stole some family heirloom, if you can believe that. Alexandra Montague doesn't need to steal anything, let alone lead Spencer by the nose the way she does." Katie smothered a laugh at her mother's aggrieved tone. "Don't you laugh at me, young lady. He's been gone three years now, and you'd think he'd get some sense..."

Katie stopped laughing when her mother trailed off. "What is it?"

"Do you hear that?"

She listened, hearing a faint crackling sound. Katie got up and crossed over to the kitchen window, which faced the backyard. "Henry's house is on fire!" she cried, seeing her neighbor's roof alight. But as she turned, she realized that the neighbors on her other side also had flames leaping up from their roof. She realized that the crackling had gotten louder, and she looked up at the ceiling, her eyes widening in horror. "Mum!"

Her mother had crossed the kitchen and opened the door to the living room. Flames danced along the couch they had been sitting on not ten minutes earlier, and the stairs were engulfed. She let out a wordless scream of terror, and Katie darted forward. "Mum! Mum, we have to get out of the house! Dad can't be asleep. He must have gotten out, must've started looking for us..."

It was a lie, they both knew it was a lie. Katie's father slept quickly and like a rock. He likely had already burned up in his bed.

Katie could barely hear her mother screaming over the rush of blood in her ears, over the roar of the fire as it swiftly grew in intensity. She looked up at the sound of a cracking beam, and her mother pushed her out of the way. Katie went skidding across the kitchen floor just as part of the ceiling collapsed. Her mother was trapped beneath it, beginning to scream as the living room fire reached the kitchen doorway.

"Go! Katie! Run! _Run!_ Get out of here!" her mother shrieked.

She tried to lift the beam, she really did. But Katie wasn't strong enough to move it, and she couldn't do anything to help her mother. Tears streaming, she managed to cast the pain numbing spell on her mother. "I'm sorry," Katie sobbed, ducking her head. The kitchen walls were starting to scorch, and her mother waved her off.

The night air was cold and full of ash. The entire village was burning.

It seemed as though she was the only one walking through the streets. Most of them were silent, the people not even screaming. The fire had started late in the evening, but not that late. Still, most of them must have been caught in their beds.

Katie's heart was breaking, but she couldn't think of her parents, couldn't think of how helpless she was. "Is someone out there?" she shouted, going through the village. The streets were too empty, too silent. She found herself headed toward the center of the village, the town hall already crumbled. She thought she could hear someone shouting from inside one of the shops down one of the side streets.

_Flint Masonry and Supplies._

Pulling her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose, Katie kicked open the front door. Most of the front showroom had been stone samples and carvings, the glazes melting right off of the statues in places. Pinned beneath one was Marcus Flint. He had been shouting for help, and he reached out for Katie with his right arm. "Please," he asked, eyes glassy with pain. "Help..."

The rest of the shop was already ablaze. "Where's your father?" she asked as she tried to move the statue. It was a fanciful angel, its wings pinning Marcus' left arm and chest beneath it. It might have been pretty on someone's lawn, but it was now hot to the touch, and Katie thought she'd blister her palms. The statue moved slightly, but it was too blasted heavy.

"He... Upstairs..." Marcus coughed, ash thick in his throat. "I don't think he made it out."

Katie didn't think so either. There had been no other sound but his screaming in the entire village. Even her mother's had stopped soon after Katie had left.

"I can't move this," Katie gasped, giving the statue another push. She could barely see the collapsed pile next to it, which prevented the angel from moving. One of the ceiling beams had knocked over a display of them. "I can't," she said, beginning to cough. It was too hot and stuffy, the air burning inside her lungs

He seemed to collapse in on himself a little. "Go on, then," he coughed, pushing at her with his good hand. Marcus was strong, but didn't have enough leverage to get himself out from beneath the statues. "No sense in you getting caught, too."

_Not again,_ she thought, her irrational anger rising in her. Her mother had done the same thing, and she couldn't let it happen again. The entire village was burning, and no one else was left alive. If she could save even one person...

Tears tracking through the ash on her face, Katie grasped his good wrist and apparated both of them to the Bell family's summer home.

She had been worried that she would splinch him, but everything seemed all right. Marcus' breath rattled in his chest, and Katie pulled her shirt down from her mouth now that the air didn't sear on contact. She looked over Marcus' arm and chest, which had the worst of the burn marks on it; everything looked blackened and steaming in the cool night air. "I'll be right back," she promised. Marcus coughed, curling up slightly from the force of bringing up ash and smoke.

Katie had basic first aid training as part of her program, and it would be part of the exams she would write in the coming weeks. She gathered whatever supplies she could think of, and went to work repairing as much of the damage as she could. She faltered at the sight of a tattoo on the inside of Marcus' left arm; though the fire damage was extensive, she could tell it was the Dark Mark. Katie kept going after a moment, then wrapped up his arms and chest with bandages when she was done. "You'll probably have horrid scars, but it'll heal," she said after a moment.

Marcus caught hold of her wrist. "Why did you help me?"

Her face was drawn, her eyes haunted. "No one else survived that fire," she said. Her voice was hoarse to her own ears, and she got up before she would break down and cry in front of him. "Come on, you'll need to sleep. You can use Spencer's room."

He and her brother had been the same age, but hadn't really been friends. Marcus had been athletic, but Spencer had been bookish. Still, it was a small village and they knew each other well enough. "Won't he need it?" Marcus asked, confused.

Katie shook her head. "He hadn't been back in years, since running away with Alexandra Montague. He hadn't wanted to come here for years before that."

"Idiot," Marcus mumbled, the pain potions starting to slur his speech and make him dizzy. "She won't marry him. Family contract with the MacDougals..."

"Yeah. He was always stupid for a Ravenclaw," Katie agreed, helping Marcus to his feet. She half dragged him to Spencer's room and helped him collapse on top of the bed. "Just... Sleep, all right? You need to rest now."

"My father said they'd be no good for me," Marcus mumbled, his eyes falling shut. "Should have listened and stuck with the shop..."

Katie stood there a moment, not sure what to say. "I'm sure you meant for the best," she said finally, just as his breathing was starting to deepen.

"Never was good enough," he mumbled, the syllables slurred and nearly unrecognizable.

Katie didn't reply, but left the room. Her old room was the next one, and her things for summer were still in the drawers. She stripped out of her smoke-filled clothes and yanked on one of her nightgowns. It was a thicker one, for their fall trips to the summer house, and it went from her neck to her ankles in a swath of white cotton. She hoped to fall into a dreamless sleep out of sheer exhaustion, but it didn't happen.

It was her usual nightmare of pain and silver edged cracks beneath her skin, of being pasted back together with spells and potions and old magic fused to her bones. Katie never remembered the details when she woke, and she was abruptly shaken awake by an alarmed Marcus. "Katie? Are you all right? You were choking!"

He had seen her writhing on the bed, covers twisted over her. She had been making choking sounds, and she had been in the fire, too. He didn't know much ash she had inhaled, but knew that his own lungs were still occasionally purging ash. He didn't know what had woken him, but could only guess it was the choking sounds Katie had made. Both of their doors were open, so he had been able to rush inside quickly. Marcus brushed his hands across her face, at the lines that seemed to hover just beneath her skin. They almost seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Katie was startled at the feel of his rough fingertips over the curse scar lines. It was too much of a coincidence for him to trace them exactly if he couldn't see them. She wondered if the Dark Mark counted as curse damage, but pushed the thought aside. Snape or Draco would have stared at her scars, then, and neither did.

"I'm fine," she said brusquely, pushing him away. "You should get to sleep. You were burned."

"I can't sleep," he growled at her. "It hurts where I was burned and I keep seeing the fire every time I shut my eyes. What about you? Are you sure you weren't choking?"

"I'm _fine,"_ Katie repeated. She had her stubborn face on; if she didn't, she'd start bawling. Her parents were dead, her smiling mother burnt beneath a broken beam and her father burnt to a crisp within his bed. It wasn't _fair,_ it wasn't right, and she could do nothing about it. As much as she had fought circumstances in the past year, she couldn't fight death.

Marcus sat beside her stiff form and took her left hand in his right one. "Thank you."

"What for? Your father's still dead."

He managed not to flinch at her blunt tone. "If you weren't there, I'd be dead."

She shivered slightly, and told herself it was just the chill night air. "I almost didn't visit my parents tonight. I almost wasn't there."

"I know we're not friends, and you didn't have to come just because I called out. So thank you for saving my life."

She'd saved a life. She had wanted to save at least one life, to salvage something from the wreckage of her hometown. But if she was honest, she would have rather saved her mother or father from the ruins than Marcus Flint.

The thought was bitter and tasted like bile. She almost hated herself for even thinking it.

Marcus watched her struggle to stay in her rigid posture, to keep herself still. It would be a stereotypical act to pull her close and let her cry it out, as much as he would have liked that. It would be some kind of connection, something other than the hollow ache in his chest. His family had been just him and his father for years now; his older brother had died after being mauled by a werewolf when Marcus was two, his younger brother had died years ago after an accident in the shop and his mother had died of illness soon after his younger brother did. He had given up on school or a possible career in Quidditch to help his father in the family stone working shop, though he couldn't regret that. His father was older, with arthritic hands. He had needed Marcus to work the tools, to do the finer carvings and the fine porcelain glazes. Marcus needed to know what to do to take over the shop someday.

And it had all gone up in flames because Vincent Crabbe was a terrible showoff and couldn't contain himself.

Marcus held her hand tightly. "I'm glad I'm not alone right now," he murmured, his left arm held close to his torso. "I'm glad you came for me and didn't just leave me there."

Katie struggled to keep her composure, but she really wanted to fly apart at her silver seams and dissolve into tears. She felt like a hollow thing, not at all like a real person, maybe more like the damned cursed locket she had carried over a year ago. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, as scalding as the air had been in their home village.

Carefully and slowly, Marcus brushed away the tears with his left hand. Too quick motions jostled the bandages on his arm, which hurt enough already. "I'm sorry about your parents. The Bells were always good people."

"Yeah," she replied, voice hoarse. Her eyes slid away from his concerned ones; it wasn't pity but understanding in his eyes, and it burned. She couldn't tolerate it. "You should go to bed."

Marcus wondered at her strength, how she could keep it in the middle of this situation. "Can I stay?" he asked. "I'd rather not be alone right now."

Shoulders sagging, Katie nodded. She felt so tired, so weary. She would break apart if she didn't keep her tattered control together. She lay down again, pulling her blankets up to her chin. Marcus moved to the other side of the bed and carefully got in beside her. He was still fully clothed, ash and smoke clinging to the fabric. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the village fire hot against her face. Of course he couldn't stop thinking about the fire. It had just happened and he still stank of it.

Somehow, they slept. Katie lost her bearings when she woke, sunlight streaming in through the window and hitting her in the face. She wasn't in her flat, wasn't in her usual bed with her books and journals and papers everywhere. And there was a man pressed up in bed behind her, a heavy arm draped over her side. Startled, Katie pushed it aside and sat up abruptly, falling out of bed.

Marcus hissed in agony when Katie struck the bandaged part of his left arm. He got up as well and bit back the curse he wanted to say when he noted how disoriented Katie seemed. The bandage was yellowed with pus, and he wondered if her ministrations had been enough to keep it from getting worse. Funny how neither of them thought to go to St. Mungo's. His brothers had died there, so he avoided the place like the plague. He remembered his father mentioning that Katie had been sick last year, so she probably didn't like the place either.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Katie hissed, pushing herself up to her feet.

"I _was_ sleeping."

Katie pointed to him, her lips compressed tight in unhappiness. "That erection..."

Marcus groaned. She _had_ to point out the obvious. "It's early morning, and I was in bed with a beautiful girl not wearing knickers. What do you want from me?"

She stopped the variation of "I'm not your fuck toy just because I'm female" speech she had been prepared to launch into. "What?"

"Morning wood, Bell," he grumbled. "Ever hear of it?"

"Not that part," Katie said faintly. "That last bit? What was that?"

"I was in bed with a beautiful girl not wearing knickers? That's got you riled?" Marcus rolled his eyes. "I was burned, not blinded, Bell. Who knew you went to bed starkers under your nightie?"

Her cheeks went bright red at the innuendo in his tone. Stupid pale complexion. "It'd be best if you left," Katie said, pointing to the door.

Marcus got up out of the bed and faced her. "Where am I supposed to go, then? Not all of us had money enough for a second home," he said, voice soft but thick with bitterness. "My home just burned down to the ground. My family's dead. _Everyone_ is dead, Bell. Where do you suppose I head off to?"

Her lips trembled and Katie's throat was thick with unshed tears. She refused to act like a bloody girl and cry in front of him. "You lived at the shop?"

"We had a flat above it, Dad and me. It's just us. _Was_ just us," he muttered, catching himself. He shook his head, determined not to let her see his grief. He would mourn his father later, after he throttled Vincent Crabbe within an inch of his life. "Not all of us had money."

"We didn't," Katie blurted. "Not like that, anyway. Just... comfortable."

Marcus was standing in front of her. She was average height, and he towered above her. She was nearly shaking in front of him, and he suddenly realized that she wanted him to leave so she could fall apart. He was the last reminder of home, the last thing tying her to her parents and everything she had known. She didn't want him to see her like that.

He remembered seeing her when she was younger, maybe eight or nine. Some of the other kids had been teasing her, and her idiot brother had let it happen. He had been useless, too absorbed in comic books at the time. She had run away from the park, and Marcus had found her later curled up in the stone yards behind the shop. There had been piles of stones everywhere, and she had been sitting on the edge where the yard opened to the forest beyond the edge of town. She was crying, head down and arms pulling her knees to her chest. Even her crying had been fairly quiet, and Marcus had headed back into the shop to help his father. He had pretended he hadn't seen a thing, though the wankers that had been teasing her mysteriously had black eyes the following morning. Katie hadn't known who did it, and the boys certainly weren't about to tell her who did.

Marcus cupped her face in his hands, which startled her. He traced the scar lines on her face, the thin silver ones that looked like filigree edging on a locket. Or maybe it was like the crackle glaze on porcelain. He bent down and kissed her lips gently, his touch light over her face. She could have moved away if she wanted to, but she didn't.

Her mouth opened in surprise. "Why?" she asked, her voice coming out in a croak.

"Maybe for a little while, we can forget," he offered. "You can be just a beautiful girl in a nightdress, and I can just be a bloke with bandages."

"You can see...?" She almost didn't want to ask how he was able to see her scars, what kind of curse damage had he sustained in order to see them.

"You're beautiful, Katie," Marcus murmured. "I'd always thought so."

He drew the nightgown over her head and she carefully took off his smoke-filled clothes. They didn't talk, didn't question this further. Marcus traced the silver scars with his lips and tongue and fingers, across her face to her mouth, then down her neck and breasts and belly, down to the juncture of her thighs. Katie gasped at the sensation of him, at the feel of his muscles moving beneath her fingertips, at the feeling of being _alive_ and drowning in pleasure, waves and waves of it, no memory needed at all.

Katie sat on the edge of her bed afterward, shoulders bowed. She looked down at her feet on the carpet, the silver scar lines over her entire body. All this darkness trapped within her, all this hate and rage and pain and despair, yet she was still capable of feeling something like ecstasy. Maybe she could feel joy and love again. Maybe she could be whole again.

Marcus slid a hand around her waist and pressed his lips to the hollow above her hip. He was stretched out on her narrow bed, feet hanging off of edge. He looked ridiculous there, yet almost like he belonged. Katie couldn't help but smile at him faintly, then slid her fingers through his unruly hair. "Are you all right?" he asked, tone serious and eyes grave.

"No." And she could guess he wasn't either.

"I'm sorry, Katie," he murmured against her hip. "I really am. They... I wish there was something I could do."

The tears she hadn't wanted to shed burned in the center of her chest, just where her heart should be. "I know," she said softly, stroking the back of his head. "I'm sorry, too." And she was; his father had been a gruff but common figure in the village, someone everyone respected even if his views about blood purity were old fashioned. He came from a different era, that was all.

Marcus looked at her in concern when she got up. "What are you going to do now?" he asked, brows knit in concern. He could still feel her beneath his fingertips, still taste her on his tongue, still hear her cries ringing in his ears. He didn't want her to go _anywhere,_ wanted this moment to hang between them forever. He didn't want to have to resume his former activities; his father had been right, and taking the Mark had been a colossally stupid mistake. His father had regretted being involved in the first war, and Marcus now understood why.

"I..."

Her eyes drifted to his bandaged left arm, and she could feel his eyes on her. That wasn't the reason she was leaving. She almost wanted to tell him about the law enforcement program, that she had exams to write, that she had classes she was missing and that she had a scheduled appointment with her supervisor later that afternoon. She had a life waiting for her out there somewhere. It was a life that didn't include smoke or ash or raging, out-of-control fires that left burned Death Eaters in her bed.

But that wasn't fair, either. Marcus had never been the bad sort in the village, had never been cruel to her at school. He'd been rough on the pitch, almost vicious at times, but she had given back as good as she got.

She cleared her throat. "I have classes... I don't know how many I've missed."

Marcus' stomach growled, and he wanted to groan at the awful timing of it. Katie seemed fragile somehow, fragile in a way she would never want to accept. It wasn't that she needed him, or anyone, really, but she equated emotions with weakness. That left her wide open to exquisite kinds of pain without knowing how to deal with it.

"Food first, I think," Marcus said with a sheepish smile. "Makes sense, yeah?"

It was so oddly normal that Katie almost wanted to scream at him. But what about this day was normal? Their parents were dead, their home village had burned to the ground, she was in her family's summer home and Marcus Flint had just thoroughly fucked her. Nothing about this day was ordinary in the least.

"Food. Yeah. There's an idea."

Katie got dressed and Marcus went through Spencer's old clothes to see what would fit. Not much did; Marcus was broader in the shoulders and much taller than Spencer was. Katie wound up using a few tailoring charms for the shirt, and he did a passable job with the trousers. There wasn't much food in the house, since it had been closed up for the winter. But there were dried goods in the cupboards, and that made do for the moment. She looked at his wounds afterward, taking off the bandages carefully. The skin beneath it was still angry looking, raw and red and full of pus and blackened edges. It would definitely scar with time.

Marcus remained silent while Katie cleaned out the wounds and applied more salves. He drank every potion she shoved at him, his eyes glassy with pain. She felt awful, like this was her fault somehow, like she should have done a better job with his wounds or with his rescue. She felt like a fraud, like his gratitude was misplaced somehow. She didn't deserve his gratitude, not really, not how it counted. His father was dead, his home destroyed, his arm and chest mangled and his senses dulled with pain. What would it be like for hols...?

Hols. In three weeks' time were hols, and she didn't have anyone to go to, either. Spencer was being a selfish git, writing erratically and never visiting because he loved his girlfriend more than anything in the world and couldn't be arsed to think of anyone else. Her parents were dead now, burnt to cinders, and all she had left was a tiny flat near the training hall and this summer home. And curse damage and tiredness and tears she refused to shed.

Her eyes were damp, and she rubbed at them angrily. She would not cry. She would not cry. She _refused_ to cry, bugger it all.

Marcus pulled her into his embrace and dropped his head down onto hers. Though it killed him, he held her tightly against his chest, ignoring the pain in his chest and arm. It _burned,_ but it reminded him he was alive. She was alive. Someone had survived the wreckage of their village, and they were going to be all right.

She didn't sob, but he could feel the sting of her tears against his chest when it soaked through his shirt. Marcus simply stroked the back of her head and let her cling to him. He held her tightly, his eyes closed as he tried to memorize the feel of her.

She didn't meet his eyes when she told him she had to leave. She apparated out, and he was left to wonder if she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

With nowhere else to go, Marcus could do nothing but wait.

***  
***


	5. Through Ashes

_The human heart has hidden treasures,  
In secret kept, in silence sealed;--  
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,  
Whose charms were broken if revealed.  
And days may pass in gay confusion,  
And nights in rosy riot fly,  
While, lost in Fame's or Wealth's illusion,  
The memory of the Past may die._  
Charlotte Bronte, "Evening Solace"

Katie stared at the door to Program Director Stepanov's office. She'd never skived off from class before, even at Hogwarts. She might not have put forth all of her effort, but she'd at least been in classes. She was early for her supervision session, and had only stopped to send an owl to Draco and Ginny that she had to cancel that week's session at both Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. She couldn't think straight at the moment, much less counsel them on how to be good candidates for the law enforcement program.

"Enter," Stepanov boomed when Katie knocked on the door. He took in her glassy eyes, stony expression and singed sections of hair. "What in Merlin's name happened to you?"

"There was a fire last night," she replied faintly, standing behind the chair she usually sat in. She held the back of it in a white knuckled grip; it felt as if the chair was the only thing keeping her upright. "My parents... The village... There was a fire last night," she repeated.

"Sit down and start making sense," Stepanov barked. Some of her classmates had gleefully reported to him that she had missed classes, but he didn't care about that. Cadets sometimes missed a class or two, and it didn't matter as long as they were able to write their exams properly. Cadets could in theory learn whatever they needed from the texts and practicals, skipping the classroom entirely. It was out of character for Katie, and he knew it.

"I visited my parents last night," Katie murmured. She sat down in the chair delicately, as if it would flake to ash if she touched it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to miss my classes this morning. I'll go to tomorrow's session, of course."

Stepanov wasn't fooled by her brisk tone. A teacher might have, but her teachers didn't know her very well at all. Over the course of the term, Stepanov had gotten to know her fairly well. "Your parents," he said, not understanding the non sequitur. "What does your parents have to do with this, Cadet Bell?"

"There was a fire." Katie forced back the feeling that she should bawl. Now was not the time for it. Better to be numb to it all. Better to focus on her classes, on writing her exams, on making sure that Stepanov understood why she skipped class and shouldn't be booted from the program entirely. "My parents are dead."

It only then clicked. Stepanov knew her entire file, of course. So while the morning news had included a report of a northern village burning down to the ground in its entirety, he hadn't automatically made the connection. "You have a flat near here," he pointed out.

"I wasn't there," Katie replied. Her hands were cold and balled into fists in her lap. She could barely feel her fingernails digging into her palms. She could smell the smoke in her hair, even if she had changed her clothes. She should have showered. She could smell smoke and ash and Marcus, and all she could think about now was the burned flesh of his arm and chest. Everyone in the village would look like that, burned flesh tight over bone, not even recognizable as any of the people she had grown up with. "I was visiting my parents," she said in a tiny voice after a moment. "And they're dead now. They're all dead now."

Stepanov blinked. "I'm sorry for your loss, Cadet."

"I'll be writing exams, of course," Katie continued in that same tiny, lifeless tone. "I'll speak with each of the instructors to get the assignments I missed today. I'll make up the work and do the practical after hours. I'll catch up..."

"Katherine."

Katie's gaze shifted from a spot just left of his ear to his eyes. No one really used her full first name, let alone any of her professors. "Director?"

"You need time off."

"My exams!" Katie exclaimed, shaking her head. "I need to attend classes next week, and then write my exams after that."

"You know nothing of me, do you?" he asked. She shook her head. Of course she didn't. Cadets didn't need to know anything about their instructors other than they were knowledgeable and approved by the Ministry. The instructors had to know some of the basics. Supervisors had to know a little more. "I had a wife and child. I buried them during the first war."

"I'm sorry, sir," Katie replied, discomfited.

"You need time off," Stepanov repeated. "Funeral arrangements take time."

Katie had gone chalk white, her hands clenched even tighter in her lap. "Oh." She blinked rapidly to keep herself from crying. "Oh."

"It's not difficult," Stepanov said, not unkindly. "But it takes time, and you are not at your best right now. Writing your exams might be a distraction for you, but you would not do as well as you should do on them."

"But I need..." Katie began, eyes wide in dismay. Acceptance into the follow up program was usually contingent on the exam scores.

"I will be accepting you into my class on a temporary basis," Stepanov continued. "You will write your exams after the New Year, but will still be part of my advanced class. The exams, I'm sure, will merely be a formality by then." He leveled a gaze at her. "You didn't mention the advanced class or your desire to be an Artifact Investigator during our sessions. Curious."

"It couldn't be seen as favoritism, sir. I have to earn it," Katie replied, feeling numb inside. His expression revealed nothing, and she was rattled enough already that it unnerved her.

After a moment, Stepanov nodded. "There are disadvantages to locking away your emotions, Katherine. Trust me on this point. The most successful of agents are those that still feel, that can understand their informants and clients." There was understanding in his gaze, not pity, and Katie could feel her tears caught in her throat. It was a painful lump she couldn't swallow down, and he seemed to know that. "Go home. Grieve. Bury your dead. Come back in January. My class is starting after Twelfth Night. I will myself be going abroad to mourn my own dead, to visit my wife and child. I buried them in the home country, closer to family they knew. Your family and village will need to be buried and mourned. Grieve, Katherine." Stepanov got up and laid a hand on her shoulder in support. "It is not weakness to grieve. Emotions are important, and can be a tool. Feel this, and use it when you are stronger."

Katie looked up, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Thank you."

Stepanov nodded and watched her leave his office. He would inform all of her instructors and take care of her exam schedule. She would probably be ready for them by the end of January. In spite of himself, he had grown somewhat attached to his supervisee.

***

"Why do you think she canceled?" Ginny asked Draco, looking over the identical owls they had received. They were hastily scrawled on scraps of parchment and delivered by one of the official owls of the training program. There was no explanation, just that everything this week would be canceled. It was unlike her; Katie usually had everything planned very far in advance.

But Draco seemed to know something that Ginny didn't; he hadn't been as surprised to see the note as Ginny had been.

"Tell me," Ginny demanded. "You know why."

His eyes flicked up at her and then off to the side, to the meeting room doorway. "Honestly, Weasley, you're a larger idiot than I took you for. Of course I don't know why Bell canceled. It probably has something to do with her exams."

He had pulled out a quill as he spoke, and scratched _Our other place_ underneath Katie's handwriting. Ginny could barely make out the words, as he hadn't used ink. But she nodded her understanding and gathered up her books and backpack. "I suppose you don't want to be seen with the likes of me," she said, managing to sound irritated.

It wasn't too far from the truth, really. She was tired of sneaking about, tired of doubting every open doorway or corridor, tired of the endless torture sessions that were detentions. She was black and blue all over some days, just cursed on others. The pain numbing spell was highly effective, as Katie had told her it would be, but even that couldn't block out everything. Ginny still felt tired and sore at night, still felt like she would break to pieces if this kept up long enough. Her dreams were full of whispers and Parselmouth, dark eyes from a half remembered diary and white-blond hair. The days were dreary, dragging endlessly, and any of the mad schemes she and the remnants of the DA had put together had been toppled one by one. It was hard not to feel frustrated or trapped.

At least taking Draco to the basilisk cavern helped break that particular nightmare. Now she had a hiding place no one else knew about.

Ginny ignored the generic sarcastic comment Draco made in reply. When she left, Crabbe and Goyle were waiting outside for Draco. She supposed he would find her sooner or later. With the cavern less scary for her, she had started doing her homework there. She was even starting to think of beginning another diary. It wasn't as if she had anyone to talk to about her thoughts; she didn't feel comfortable telling Neville or Luna about the relationship she had with Draco. He made her feel safe in a way that they couldn't, and she carried around the ghost of his kiss on her lips for hours afterward.

Maybe this was how it should have been with Harry. Some part of her, the childish girl still hidden deep inside of her, was sad about that. The rest of her was able to push the thought away. They had tried at least. Harry just couldn't be a good boyfriend to her, couldn't be who she needed him to be. And she couldn't be who he needed her to be.

Draco found her there hours later, finishing up her homework. "They... Something happened recently, Gin," he said, sitting down on the floor next to her. "We've been picking up more things than just what they've taught in Dark Arts class."

"I imagine so," she murmured, studiously not looking at his left arm. She didn't want to have to contemplate the fact that it was there.

"Crabbe's been getting extra help from the Carrows," Draco said, hands clasped in front of him. "He's been showing off some of the spells, but he can't control them, not really. And last night, he went to see Norton Flint, to try to convince him to rejoin the Death Eaters. The man's older, has pretty bad arthritis. He's a stone mason, you know... _Was_ a stone mason."

Ginny blinked. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Flint's Dad was a Death Eater in the first war, blamed his health on not being part of this one. Marcus joined up in his place. It kept anyone from thinking badly on his Dad, but Crabbe thought he'd make a name for himself by convincing the old man to come back." Draco looked up from his clasped hands. "Crabbe was showing off, trying to say how powerful he was. He wound up burning down the entire village." Ginny gasped and Draco nodded. "Worst part of it is, that was Bell's hometown, too."

Ginny hadn't known that. Draco hadn't known that initially, but he had started looking for any information he could find about her when she showed up in school again. He had wanted to find some kind of dirt on the girl in case she ever accused him of harming her, but there was nothing to be found. She was an ordinary girl from an ordinary village, pure of blood and from a fairly good family. Hers had been a comfortable existence in comparison to Marcus'; the Flints had fallen on tough times with all the deaths in the family and not as much demand for the intricate stone work the Flints were known for.

None of it mattered now, however. Apparently Katie Bell was the only survivor from the village, and it possibly was because she was in the law enforcement program. Crabbe had left the village straightaway, leaving Marcus behind when they started scuffling. Crabbe had laughed when recounting how he had bested Marcus and left him pinned there, that he couldn't try to make Crabbe look bad with the debacle. He had gone back hours later, and the fires were still raging, still consuming everything in the village. There would be nothing left now, nothing but ash and smoldering embers.

Ginny clasped Draco's hand. "We have to go visit her. We have to do _something."_

"Gin, they're going to shut down the weekends..."

"Unless someone they trust has a pass," Ginny reminded him. "Unless _you_ take me with you to check on her. She's alone, Draco. She's grieving alone, and she's been through so much already. I can't just sit by and do nothing."

"She might not want you about."

"I'd wait, of course. I'm staying over hols." She and Neville both were, and they were planning to sneak through the castle halls and try to do whatever they could to sabotage the remaining Death Eaters in the castle. "Perhaps we could go then. It's the worst time to lose her parents."

Draco thought of the attacks that were planned for the holiday season, the targets that he had heard about and the ones he could only guess at. "I'll owl you. I might not be able to get away. You don't need me to go visit her."

"She's your mentor, too," Ginny murmured, looking down at their clasped hands. "She's a friend, too. We have to stick by her through this. She doesn't have anyone else."

It was his fault she had been hurt the year before, his fault her life had veered course so drastically. He owed her, even if she didn't know it yet.

"All right. I'll try to find a time to visit her with you over hols. Don't do anything stupid or rash or _Gryffindor_ will you? It helps if you're not dead."

Ginny leaned forward and kissed his lips lightly. "I worry about you, too."

Startled, he watched her lean back to collect her things. "You're not staying long tonight?"

She had to meet Luna in the Gryffindor common room to talk strategy, but she couldn't tell Draco that. "I promised to help a friend with homework tonight."

There were too many things half said or completely unsaid between them. Draco nodded, knowing she was lying to him. He also knew he couldn't peer too closely, or else he would have to do something about it. He didn't want to make a choice, didn't want to be put into the position he had be put into last year. He could let Crabbe and Goyle start to pull away if it kept him and his family safe. If it kept Ginny safe.

He didn't belong to either side, really, and that didn't leave him too many options at all.

***

Marcus had explored the Bells' summer home after Katie left. It was a relatively small house compared to the one they had in the village, but it was still larger than the flat the Flints had over their shop. They had left the house stocked up in preparation for random visits, and he went rifling through dressers and drawers and closets. Spencer hadn't been in the house for years according to Katie, and no one had touched the room in his absence before he had borrowed clothes. He had school books in his room; he had likely studied every summer, which explained why he had been an obnoxious swot in school. Katie had books as well, but they were on the beach's flora and fauna, Quidditch strategy or mysteries. He remembered how focused she had been on Quidditch, never paying attention to anyone in the village. She was too good for his lot, most likely. Once Marcus' Quidditch hopes had been ruined, he was lucky any of his monied friends from Hogwarts still talked with him. All he heard at Death Eater meetings was how upstarts didn't know their place, that too many presumed to know them.

He wondered when she would return, and if there would be Order of the Phoenix members with her to arrest him.

Ultimately, it didn't matter. For all that he had hoped to make a better life for himself and his father, it hadn't worked. His father was dead, and he had been left for dead. They probably had a good laugh over it, that the idiot stoneworker thought he could better himself and be like one of them. Marcus would have left the Bells' home if he had anywhere else to go, but there was nothing for him now. No shop, no flat, no allies.

He was reading one of Katie's mystery novels when she apparated back into the summer home. He stuck his finger into the book to hold his place and went into the kitchen. "Katie." She was carrying groceries, and was startled to see him. She was alone, with no indication that she had ever mentioned him to authorities. "I would've thought you'd turn me in."

"Oh. I... I thought you would've gone back to your friends."

Marcus took in her pale face, the dark circles beneath her red-rimmed eyes. She had been crying at some point, though she would never cry in front of him. "The Death Eaters are the ones that burned down the town. So no, not likely I'd go back to them right this moment."

Katie paused in putting the groceries away. "Why did they do it?"

"Showing off," Marcus told her quietly. "Vince thought he could show my father how good they were, how helpful they'd be to him again. As if I hadn't tried the same thing when I joined up."

She looked away from him. They both knew what he was, what she was. They both knew the darker discoloration beneath his burns was the Dark Mark. "Your father was a member, then?"

"Yes, but no," Marcus told her with a sigh. He glanced at his place in the book and put it aside on the counter. She was startled to see him reading her book, but didn't say anything. "He was in the first war, thought maybe he'd get better than he did. But there wasn't any money coming after that, so he didn't rush in this time."

Katie looked up, disturbed. "They promised him money?"

"They promise a lot of things. Wealth, power, a proper place in the world for those with pure enough blood... We never had the money or power. It might've been nice not to struggle so hard for it. We can't all be posh like you," Marcus said, derision coloring his tone. People with money never understood what it was like not to have it.

She was startled by his words. "But we don't... We didn't..."

"You never looked twice at us in the village," Marcus said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Admit it. If not for last night, you'd never have spoken with me."

Color rose to her cheeks. She could remember his callused hands over her, the heat of his mouth over hers. But she was also angry with him, for accusing her of something she wasn't. "I never looked twice at you because I was working for a Quidditch tryout spot. When that was gone, I was getting into the law enforcement program. I wouldn't have talked to you because I didn't know you outside of school! And I wouldn't have been here! I have a flat by the training program so I can study!" Katie jabbed her finger hard into the center of his chest, not far from the bandages. "Don't give me the hate you have, Marcus Flint. I've enough for anybody already."

He caught her wrist in his hand easily, his gaze wary on her angry face. "Why'd you lose your spot, then? You flew well enough for one."

It was compliment, given how well he had flown at school. But Katie narrowed her gaze at him, not ready to let go of her anger yet. She pulled her wrist from his grasp. "One of your Death Eater friends nearly had me killed." Her eyes raked across his face, seeing the genuine surprise there. "Did one of them hurt you? Is that why you can see my scars?"

"What are you on about?"

"You can see my scars," Katie said, though Marcus could tell it was a question. He nodded at her, wondering what was coming next. "Only someone with curse damage can see them."

Marcus reached out and traced a line on her cheek before she twitched away from his touch in annoyance. "Yeah, I suppose I have curse damage."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Marcus didn't want to just tell her, and Katie didn't want to ask. She finally turned away and started putting away the groceries again. "I have to put this away," she said, more to herself than for his benefit.

"Why did you come back? You have this other flat, you said."

"I wanted to be sure you were gone," Katie snapped, voice taut with emotion.

"You were surprised to see me," Marcus pointed out, moving behind her. She was in law enforcement; she could probably seriously hurt him if she wanted to.

"I thought you'd be gone."

"I owe you a wizard's life debt." Katie stiffened at his quiet words. "My father will smack me upside the head if he finds out..." His voice trailed off when he realized what he said, that he had forgotten his father was dead. "Dad would have said something if I'd been remiss in my duties. He stressed that a lot. I owe you a life debt."

Katie could hear the strain in his voice. "I don't want it."

"I still have to offer it."

"I won't be responsible for you."

"Then why did you save my life?" he asked, frustration thick in his voice. "You don't like me, you've never liked me, and you still saved my life. What the hell for?"

She spun around and struck at his chest. "You stupid pillock! Everyone else was dead! I wish it wasn't you. I wish it was my Mum. I wish it was anyone else but me still alive!"

Katie was trembling in his arms, and Marcus sighed as he let his chin drop down over the top of her head. This whole thing had been a cock up from the start. He hadn't meant to antagonize her, and he hadn't meant to shred his heart any further by thinking of how much his father must have suffered when he died. "They're... They were good people, your parents."

She sniffled, but refused to cry against his chest. Her throat felt thick and closed up, as if she was choking on the tears she refused to shed. "Yeah. Your dad was a good sort, too. Mine talked about him sometimes."

Marcus' arms tightened around her shoulders fractionally. "Yeah. He meant well. He said I was stupid to join up, that he'd be fine. But his hands... He couldn't work the stone as well. I tried to help, but he made me go back to finish school."

"That second seventh year?" Katie asked, keeping a tight hold on his shirt. She was clinging to him as if she needed him to stay upright. He nodded against the top of her head. "I nearly died my seventh year. They made that cursed locket part of me to save my life."

Marcus began to stroke the back of her head. "I'm sorry, Katie. My dad said you'd been sick."

"Yeah. I suppose you could say I was."

He had his eyes closed, and could hear the pain in her voice. "Alexandra Montague cursed me to be like stone. Your brother stopped it from being too bad, but he couldn't undo it all."

Katie pulled back in surprise. "What? Why'd she do that?"

"I tried to talk sense into your idiot brother. She wasn't going to turn down a marriage contract and run away with him to be some professor's wife. She's the type that marries for money and looks good in society. She was just stringing him along so he'd do her essays." Katie could feel the truth in that; Spencer had always been blind to his friends' faults if he loved them enough. It sounded like him. "She heard me and cursed me so I'd stay quiet. Spencer undid as much as he could, and convinced her to run away so the authorities wouldn't put her in Azkaban. I told him not to go, but he wouldn't listen."

Katie looked down at the floor. "Sounds like him," she agreed quietly. "Sounds just like him."

"Look. I can leave if you want me to. I'll find someplace to go..."

She reached out and grasped his hand tightly. "No. It's fine. It's all right." She looked up at his blank expression. "I don't want to be alone right now. I need... We need to bury them."

Marcus' carefully blank expression tightened. "There won't be anything left to bury. The only reason I wasn't dead when you got to the shop was that stone is harder to burn. But Fiendfyre eventually burns everything, and nothing's left but ash."

She had been dreading the thought of identifying her parents' remains, but this was somehow worse. "Nothing's left?" He shook his head at her. "My grandparents in the churchyard?" she asked faintly. "Your mum and brothers? All gone?"

Marcus turned away, nodding. "Yeah. Vince is a bigger idiot than I am for believing he can control that fucking spell."

Katie could see her hands shaking when she put away the last of the groceries without looking at Marcus. "Not your friend anymore, then?" she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Marcus looked at her bowed head, her dark hair a curtain between them. He brushed it away from him, pushing it over her left shoulder. She blinked in surprise but kept her eyes on the counter. "We were never friends," Marcus said shortly.

"We're not friends, either."

Marcus simply looked at her for a long moment. "No, we're not."

She felt raw and tired, and trying to figure this out was too much for her. He didn't make sense to her, and she was sure he would have before this debacle. "So what now, then?"

"I owe you my life," Marcus told her slowly. "And they've shown me what they think of me."

Katie struggled to piece that together, but it was like she was moving underwater. "I could make you help me," she said, her tongue feeling thick and awkward and not her own. "I could make you tell me all about them."

"Or you could ask," Marcus murmured. "I'd tell you if you asked."

"Why?" It wasn't because she had saved his life. He had been too gentle with her the night before, and there was too much care in his posture now. Katie just couldn't piece it together, couldn't see past her own pain and rage and grief.

"Because I'm not who I thought I was. You're the only one to give me a chance like this in a long time." Marcus touched her shoulder gently. "You saved my life even when you didn't have to, even if maybe you didn't want to. That means something. I've had a lot of time to think while you were gone. I'll help you with whatever you want to do."

His life was in her hands. She could break him if she wanted to. If she was angry enough.

She closed her eyes and merely leaned into his touch. "Stay. I'll figure it out later."

***  
***


	6. Broken Images

_You cannot say, or guess, for you know only  
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,  
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,  
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only  
There is shadow under this red rock,  
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),  
And I will show you something different from either  
Your shadow at morning striding behind you  
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;  
I will show you fear in a handful of dust...  
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,  
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?  
'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?_  
T.S. Eliot, "The Waste Land (The Burial of the Dead)"

Katie was screaming in her sleep, writhing amidst twisted sheets. It was the fifth time that night, and each time she only calmed down when Marcus went in and stroked her hair in a soothing manner, telling her she would be all right. It was the sort of thing parents said; he remembered his own mother doing that when he broke his arm playing Quidditch when he was twelve. It had been just before she died, and there had been the distinct pang of loss when he realized what he was doing. By the fifth time, Marcus gave up on sleeping. He crawled into the bed with Katie and settled her back to his front. She quieted, the screaming dying down to whimpers. He curled up around her, his face buried in her hair. "You'll be all right, Katie," he murmured softly. "It'll pass. This sort of thing always does."

He rubbed her arm gently, trying not to think about his own father. But when she settled down into sleep, it was all he could think about. His father had been right, not that Marcus had wanted to think of that. He had to take care of his father, had to make sure his father would be all right. He had health problems, more than just the arthritis, and it really would only have been a matter of time before his father would have had to retire.

Marcus dozed, waking when Katie stirred in his arms. He knew the precise instant she was fully awake, as she stiffened within his embrace immediately. He was clad only in his boxers, and she was starkers beneath her nightgown. It wasn't even morning yet. "Another nightmare?" he asked, breath causing her hair to shift on the pillow.

"What are you doing here?"

"You had nightmares. This was the only way either of us could sleep."

"Did you?" Katie asked, aware of his wounded arm lying across her side, his hand spread over her belly. It was a comfortable pose, one she had burrowed into while asleep. He nodded against the top of her head. "Sorry I woke you."

"I didn't sleep so well anyway," Marcus mumbled. He buried his face in her hair; to her surprise, she could feel wetness on her scalp.

"So what now?" she asked, not quite able to move yet. She tried to focus on the silver scars on her hand, on the way the cracks didn't seem to dent her skin at all. It didn't erase the burn in her chest, the hollow feeling that probably would never go away.

"I don't know."

Katie blinked back tears she didn't realize she was shedding. "I don't know either."

"It'll go away eventually. Everything always does."

She remembered suddenly that his mother and two brothers had died already, that grief wasn't new to him. She had forgotten that earlier, and she felt almost ashamed of her uncharitable thoughts earlier. "This..." she began, her voice breaking. "There's nothing left."

"It's all right to grieve. It's all right to remember," he murmured against her hair. "You don't have to be strong all the time, Katie. It's just me here. I don't even exist anymore."

Katie felt small and horrible. He had been left for dead by people he had thought would help him, with no one else in the world. He was more alone than she was.

She turned around in his embrace, looking up at him with wet eyes. "Yes, you do. You're here with me now. We're the only ones to remember everyone now."

He brushed at the tear tracks on her face. "Where do I go? I'm dead, as far as anyone's concerned. Vince set the fire and left me there to burn." His laughter was bitter and betrayed. "For all he said he wanted to help us, he destroyed everything."

Katie looked into his eyes. She remembered thinking he had to have been stupid to need a second seventh year. She remembered laughing along with everyone else when they cruelly called him a troll, when they simply assumed he had vicious temper just because he could be nasty on the pitch and was a Slytherin. He'd never been mean when she was child, but she never spoke up on his behalf. Her silence had betrayed him just the same.

"We could ask for help," she said slowly. "There's... There's too much going on out there, and it's dangerous. But maybe we can help take them down from the inside out."

"Become a spy, you mean. Like Snape, but for the other side."

Her heart sank a little at how well known it was that Snape had been a double agent. She nodded and cupped his jaw lightly. "You could hurt them back by telling us how to get people out."

"Why do you think anyone on your side would trust me?"

She heard to bleak tone in his voice, the hopelessness in it. He was a man without a family, without purpose. She could understand that lost kind of feeling. "I do," she murmured, tracing the edge of his lip with her thumb. "With my life," she added, meaning it. If he had been cruel, he could have harmed her a thousand times over.

"How do you know I won't hurt you?" he asked, deliberately moving to hover over her almost menacingly. "How do you know this isn't an elaborate plot to trick you? To get into the Order's good graces to help the other Death Eaters?"

Katie pressed her palm against his chest, over his heart. "I was fused to a dark object, Marcus," she whispered. "I've an affinity for the dark now. I know it, and I can feel it. It's not in you. It's not who you are."

"Do _they_ know that?" he asked in a tone quiet enough to match hers. "Do they know what you're capable of?" Katie was silent. "Somehow I wouldn't think so. The real world is so much messier than anyone ever tells you."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "If they told you, I don't think you would have believed it."

Marcus gave her a rueful smile in return. "No, I probably wouldn't." He settled back onto the bed beside her, squeezing in as best as he could. "You know them. The Order people. Is it worth the risk to talk to them?"

"I think so," Katie murmured. "I'll talk to one or two of them first, if you like."

"Might as well go in whenever you're ready," Marcus said. He grasped her hand, running his thumb over the silvery lines he could see. "No one else can see these?" Katie shook her head mutely, still discomfited that he could see them and touch them. "Why cover up, then? You keep acting like there's something to hide."

"I can see them. I know they're three."

"Ever see porcelain up close?" Marcus asked, still rubbing his fingers over the scar lines. She shook her head, confused by the apparent non sequitur. "It's like this, you know. A fine, crackle kind of glaze sometimes. Some statues, people want that kind of glaze over it, so it will look like porcelain, but it isn't. They think porcelain won't be strong enough for what they want. They don't realize how strong it is, how much it can take."

"You can still break a plate pretty easily," Katie remarked dryly.

"You can still break a stone statue, too," he replied. He debated kissing the lines he was touching on her hands, and thought perhaps she would hex him for it. "The point is, you keep thinking of yourself as something horrible. This isn't."

Katie didn't know what to make of that. She looked at her hand, at his rough fingers tracing the lines beneath her skin. "I'm a dark object now, Marcus," she murmured.

Marcus didn't think anyone else knew about her spell damage, let alone how she felt about it. He kept rubbing her fingers, memorizing the feel of her skin. He didn't know how much longer this would last, and meeting the Order might wind up with him arrested or worse. "You're not an object," he said finally. "And you're not dark, no matter what you think."

She supposed he should know the difference, but she still felt hollow inside. "I should send them an owl. They'll need to know you're coming. We'll go to the owlery in town when it opens."

The little seaside town was smaller than Marcus expected it to be, but it was still larger than the village they had grown up in. Katie sent her owl, and she took Marcus on a walk through the town's streets. It was early December, and most of the people were bustling about looking for Christmas gifts. With a pang, Marcus remembered that everything he had was ash now, and there wasn't anyone to buy presents for but Katie. He wasn't even sure if she would appreciate such a thing from him, or if it would be too painful a reminder of her own loss.

The return owl post carried with it a small portkey in the shape of a muggle paper clip. Once the both of them were holding it for five minutes, they were whisked away to one of the Order's safe houses so that they could question Marcus. Katie hadn't expected to see the Weasleys, Lupins and Kingsley Shacklebolt. With a pang, Katie realized she had been looking for Mad Eye Moody, who had already died months ago.

Molly Weasley swept her up into a tight bear hug. It was like torture, and Katie stiffened in the older woman's arms. Molly's "You poor dear!" grated on her nerves somehow, and it was all she could not to push her away and shout. Arthur seemed to realize it, and brought Molly away from Katie. She turned to see Marcus' shuttered expression. For his part, Marcus had been caught unaware by his reaction; he hadn't known if he had the right to tell Molly to stop, and hadn't known if Katie would have appreciated his intervention.

Kingsley had vitaserum, and put two drops on Marcus' tongue. They sat in a bare room in the safe house. Marcus didn't know where he was and knew better than to ask. This would be humiliating, he knew. They had a Death Eater in their hands and they were still human. The need for revenge would be as great as the need to determine if he was playing Katie for a fool. Snape had fooled them once, and they would be even more vigilant with him.

Katie stood beside Kingsley and the Lupins. The Weasleys were elsewhere in the house, for which he was thankful. It was hard enough to have that many pairs of eyes staring at him, thinking he was a spy intent to harm him. Marcus was surprised that Katie chose to stay, but she kept her eyes fixed on his face the entire time.

And it was humiliating, all right. Marcus had to tell them _everything,_ every last detail he thought he had forgotten. He had joined up because of his father's illnesses, because his father had been broken piece by piece after his brothers' and mother's deaths. He had been promised money and power and a position in society to help raise his family out of their low social standing. All he had to do was join up and participate in some petty raids and grandstanding, campaign for them and convince others that the road to purity and salvation was through the Dark Lord. Marcus wanted to be comfortable, not even as posh as Warrington or the Malfoys. He just wanted to be more like the Montagues or Bells, comfortable enough not to worry if they could make the next month's rent or if they could pay the bills on time. It was a hard scrabble, and it was wearing his father down.

He wasn't important enough to have many plans or dates for plans, but he had lists of names and places they had met. He had the lists of high ranking Ministry officials and suspected Order sympathizers that the Death Eaters were trying to roust out of power. He had believed they truly were supposed to be helping the pureblooded witches and wizards. Only, an entire village was wiped out because of a stupid mistake made by a grandstanding boy that didn't realize how stupid he was. Everything he had ever loved was gone except for Katie, and there was nothing worth fighting for anymore. His father had always called him stupid and a coward, and now he knew it was true.

Something broke inside of Katie as Marcus was questioned. He was laying himself bare for their curiosity. The Lupins didn't seem to be heartless about it, but Kingsley seemed to be relentless in his questions. Marcus' father was dead. What did it matter anymore how it happened? Vincent Crabbe started the fire and fought with Marcus, leaving him for dead. None of the other Death Eaters had come looking for him, none of the friends he thought he had came to check on him or sent owls looking for him. He was assumed dead, and he had no one else.

"I'll let you know our decision," Kingsley said, effectively dismissing Marcus. Still glassy eyed from the vitaserum, Marcus could only nod and leave the room.

"That was horrible," Katie murmured when he left. She couldn't help but stare at Kingsley as she felt the revulsion bubble up inside of her. "He's not a spy."

"He's very taken with you," Remus Lupin murmured. "You seem to be more of a symbol of hope to him than anything else."

"We grew up in the same village and knew each other our whole lives," Katie replied with a dismissive wave. She looked at Tonks, rounded with her pregnancy. Surely the other woman in the room could understand it. "It's not like that."

But there had been something more in his gaze on her, something in the way he had touched her that first night, in the way he had kissed her.

"Whose idea was this?" Kingsley asked, not allowing Tonks to speak.

"Mine," Katie said firmly. "This was all my idea."

"Or did he simply make you think it was your own idea?" Kingsley asked, his brows knit in concentration. "There's a lot to consider."

"Bollocks!" Katie snapped. "You trust him or you don't, or you use him or you don't." She shook off Tonks' warning hand on her arm. "Yes, we have to be vigilant, but there's such a thing as being so suspicious that even your own shadow looks malignant!"

"Katie, you're too close to this," Tonks murmured, shaking her head. "You know him from childhood and he's a friend of yours..."

Her laugh was bitter. "No, I'm just the posh girl he thought looked down on him all his whole life. I'm the shallow thing he wanted to be worthy of." It had been odd to be talked about in those terms, to see herself through his eyes. His frustrated desires had cut her, and she had felt almost ashamed of herself for not seeing it sooner.

"We'll let you know what we decide," Kingsley said in a firm tone of voice. He had to be cautious about this now. If Marcus was a double agent for the Death Eaters, Kingsley couldn't allow him to know about any more Order members than the obvious ones.

Katie nodded briskly and left the room. Remus stopped her as she went through the door into the hallway where Marcus was leaning against the wall, waiting. "Katie, where will he be when we need to contact him?"

"He's staying with me," Katie said shortly. Marcus was clearly startled by that. "Just send an owl if you like."

She grasped Marcus by his uninjured arm and apparated out with a pop. Remus turned back toward Tonks and Kingsley. "She'll do this alone if we don't agree. She's in over her head with this and you know it. We have to help her."

"He gave us a few more names," Kingsley admitted. "We can check them out and then decide. It's too neat as it is."

"So test them," Tonks replied, looking between them. "We give him a location that isn't vital and see what he does with it. Then we'll know for sure. If he's being honest with us, then we can use this to our advantage, find out how many others there are that might turn. If we can turn them to our side, weakening theirs, we might have better leverage."

Kingsley blew out a breath and nodded. "All right. So we'll proceed carefully."

In the meantime, Katie stomped about her summer home, furious. "How dare they? You tell them everything and it's not good enough. Moody would've stopped. He would've known enough to let it go." Marcus caught her arm as she paced with jerky steps. "What?"

"I knew what I was doing. I knew that was a possibility," he told her in a quiet tone.

"It shouldn't have been!" Katie cried. "They're supposed to be better than that! They're supposed to know better and to help people and not be heartless wankers!" She let out an inarticulate howl of anger. "I can't believe I thought they were better than that!"

_"You're_ better than that," Marcus murmured.

"No, I'm not," she said, shaking her head. "I'm a dark object. I'm just anger and hate and pain and everything else like that." Her words were forced out through grit teeth. "You have no idea who I am, and you've gone around thinking I'm some kind of good person swanning about."

He caught her arms and held her still. Her pacing was too erratic and was making him dizzy after the vitaserum. "You're not a dark object, Katie. You're not an awful person. I know this."

She shook her head at him. "You don't know me. I'm not that girl. They changed me. They changed who I am and everything I'm going to be. I'm in a living nightmare. The only time I haven't been so angry in the past year is when..." Her words faltered as she remembered his hands in other places on her skin, tracing her scars. She looked at him with a lost and vulnerable expression, her lips parted. "I'm not the girl you think I am," she finished lamely. "I'm not."

He moved to cup her face in his hands, and she covered them with hers. "You're not like them, not the way you're afraid you are. I watched you the entire time I was talking."

"I know," Katie began. "But..." She had seen into him, had learned everything about him. And he knew nothing about her but fantasies and a shared pain.

"You're not this callous person. You didn't enjoy that. You didn't want to see me suffer." He traced a curse scar near the corner of her mouth with the ball of his thumb. "These lines don't define who you are or all you're going to be."

Her mother had said something similar in the weeks before she died, and Katie couldn't help but begin to cry at that. "I don't know what to do," she sobbed, clutching hold of him. "I don't want to be like that, but I'm so angry all the time. I hate what happened so much, and I can't seem to let it go. I can't be this wonderful girl for you. She's gone."

"She just grew up," Marcus murmured, leaning in to kiss her. Their mouths met, and he wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could. He ignored the pain in his arm and chest as he held her close. "You're not callous or angry or empty. Not to me."

Somehow they ended up in her bedroom with clothes strewn everywhere. He traced the lines along her back with his mouth and fingertips, her hair swept to the side. Katie struggled to keep her breathing even as he moved over her skin, as he told her without words how beautiful he thought she was. Like porcelain, he had said, even if he didn't think she was some kind of fragile doll that was ready to break. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, her heart racing inside of her chest. "Even if they say no," she gasped, "I think we should still do this."

He laid her down on the bed, her hair spread out around her and her feet falling onto her pillow with a plopping sound. Marcus moved over her, smiling crookedly to hide his front teeth from view. "Clever girl," he murmured, running his fingers along her skin. She knew he was tracing the scar lines. She didn't know how she felt with his fingers running over these scars as if they could be beautiful, as if she was anything other than cracked in places. "We'll make it work," he murmured against her stomach.

Katie arched into his touch, her fingers tangled in his hair. She gasped at the contact, at the feel of him, crying out when she came undone. He surged up against her then, and she moaned softly as he entered her. "I would've talked to you before, if you'd come up to me," she whimpered, running her hands along his back. "I wouldn't have ignored you."

Marcus buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry I didn't."

There were no more words until afterward, when they lay tangled on her bed. "I don't know why I asked you to do this. I would've just asked for your help to pack up my flat," she murmured, tracing the curve of his shoulder with her fingertips. He was used to moving stones around and shaping them. He could carry boxes or help her pack them. "I only had a six month lease. It's up soon. I'll move in here. I feel close to my parents here, like I'll see them come in..."

He ran his fingers along her lips. "It's a tight fit for us both here. We're going to have to move into a different bedroom," he told her in a soft voice. She was startled, and could only stare at him wordlessly. "You have nightmares every night, don't you?" She nodded slowly. "You only calmed down when I was with you." He tugged on a lock of her hair. "I'm not going to sleep well all scrunched up in here."

Biting her lip, Katie nodded. "We'll move into my parents' room. I need to pack up their things."

"We'll do it together," Marcus said, and Katie almost wanted to cry again. She merely nodded. "I'll need to make my miraculous resurrection from the dead soon, whatever they decide."

"Will you be all right?" Katie asked, concerned.

He gave her a sardonic smile. "Me? I'm partly made of stone. I'll be fine."

He couldn't help but think of her concern as his fist smashed into Vincent Crabbe's face the next day, breaking the boy's jaw. Crabbe went sprawling across the meeting room, and Marcus looked up into the stunned faces of Warrington, Montague, Vaisey and Higgs. They had all been close once, all Quidditch players on the house team together. He had once thought that sort of thing mattered, but he knew better now. He remembered the feel of the fire, the burning stone angel pressing down into him and the hopeless certainty that he was going to die. If not for Katie's impulsive decision to save him, he would be just as dead as the rest of his family.

Marcus wouldn't let that go unpunished.

Goyle was smarter than he looked, and stayed by Draco's side. They let Crabbe pick himself up, and Draco's eyes were pinned to the crisp white bandages around Marcus' left arm, snaking up and out of view beneath his sleeve. Marcus' old friends were full of questions, amazement that he was still alive. They had all gathered in Malfoy Manor to talk about Death Eater things, and here he was, as if back from the dead. Crabbe had been pale when Marcus first showed up, thinking he was an inferi. But the fist was too real and too solid, and so was the kick to the gut that came next when Crabbe tried to approach him. Marcus kept his jaw shut tight as he let his fists do the talking. He moved with cold precision, anger burning through him and giving him even more strength. His old friends might have been indifferent, but Crabbe had actively taken everything away from him.

Warrington pulled him back. "Mate, stop it. You'll kill him."

"Like he thought he could do with me?" Marcus snarled, hands still curled into fists. There was blood across his knuckles, and he knew it wasn't his own. "Like he killed my father and burned down my entire fucking town?"

"It wash a mishtake," Crabbe howled, trying to push a handkerchief against his bleeding nose. His jaw hurt too much to speak, but he knew that if he didn't, Marcus might just beat him to a bloody pulp. "I'm sowwy..."

Marcus gave him another vicious kick. "Fucking left me for dead in there. I've burns all over the left side of my body, Vince. My father is dead now thanks to you. My entire livelihood is _gone._ How does this help me now?"

The boy was cowering on the floor, no one coming to his aid. Marcus rather thought that Draco and Goyle might hear an earful about it later, but he couldn't bring himself to care. They hadn't come looking out for him, either. "Look, mate, you can stay with me," Warrington offered. He had always been a pretty good sort, for a Snake, but Marcus hardened himself against the lot of them. They'd left him for dead, had used him for their own ends before that. Fuck them all. He had his own agenda now.

"I found a place," Marcus said, pulling out of Warrington's grasp. "But thanks." Nodding at Warrington, he cast about for something to drink. "Tell me what I missed and what we're going to do next. I'm not dead, no matter what that blubbering idiot thought."

Glad to have their friend back, Warrington and Montague began to tell him.

***

No one officially knew about the attack on the Hogwarts Express as it left Hogwarts, but of course everyone knew about it. Ginny already knew that DA members were lost. The Inquisition Squad had known who all the members were, and it had really only been a matter of time before they were all rounded up and caught.

It was that much more important for her efforts in the school to continue. Harry, Hermione and Ron were missing as far as everyone knew, and the Potterwatch reports were the only ones with any kind of truth in them. Ginny couldn't let their efforts go on without any kind of support, even if they might never know about it. Even when she was caught and beaten or cursed, it was worth it. There needed to be a visible resistance to the Death Eaters. Someone needed to be fighting for what was right. If good people stood aside and allowed it to happen, as so many were, then they would win without a fight. Whenever Harry and the others returned from their mission, it would be for nothing. Ginny couldn't allow that to happen.

_Don't be an idiot,_ Draco wrote in his letter to her. _Keep yourself safe. I'll come for you as soon as I can._

It was possibly as close to an _I love you_ as he was capable of in these dangerous times.

"What's going on with you?" Neville asked Ginny quietly. She had read and reread one of her letters at least a dozen times, and she seemed distracted. Her heart was still in their task, but it was almost like she was waiting for something.

Ginny looked at Neville in surprise. "I'm fine, Nev. Why?"

"This is more than just the news about Katie's village or not seeing her in a while. You know she's doing all right since she sent you those owls last week." Neville looked at her in concern. "We're friends, yeah?"

If this turned into a declaration of love, Ginny was going to be ill. "Just friends, yeah."

He nodded. "So you can tell me everything."

She didn't think she could, and it probably showed on her face. His face in turn fell a little, and Ginny hastily reached out to grasp his arm. "It's not like that. It's... I'm probably doing something very, very stupid. I don't know how to tell you."

Neville smiled at her. "We know how stupid we can be. Come on, Gin. You can trust me."

Funny, Draco said the same thing to her, too. Taking a breath, Ginny finally nodded. "I've sort of been seeing Draco Malfoy. In a romantic sense. Sort of. I think."

He stood up. "We're taking a walk."

"What?"

"We're not talking about this in the common room, Gin," Neville said quietly. "Too many ears and we don't know who they belong to. Come on."

They ducked into the Room of Requirement. It looked just like an empty Gryffindor common room. Ginny flopped down and looked at Neville. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, Nev."

"I know why you wouldn't," he began slowly. "I'm glad you're telling me now."

"I didn't tell him anything," Ginny said hastily. "Nothing about what we're doing or why or where we go. It's... He seemed mostly harmless at the beginning of the year, and Moaning Myrtle trusts him," Ginny said, almost pleading with Neville to understand. "I needed someone there with me and Katie so she'd talk to me about the law enforcement program." She bit her lip at Neville's blank gaze. "He wasn't so bad. He... We talked, and I got to know him. And he got to know me, too. He's almost nice sometimes, and he treats me like anyone else would. Like I'm special for being me, and not because of who I used to date or who I'm related to. Does that make sense?"

Neville looked at her evenly. "I'm almost the Boy Who Lived. I'm in his shadow all the time. Of course I know what you mean by that."

Ginny winced at his tone of voice. "I feel special, and I like that. And we don't talk about what's going on here, not really. He's let me get away a few times."

"I know." Neville only shrugged at Ginny's surprise. "I'm not blind, Gin. I knew he let you go, I just never knew why before."

She pulled her legs up beneath her and bit her lip. "I hope Luna's okay. And the rest of them."

"Do you love him, Gin?"

She looked at him, startled, eyes wide. He was looking at her evenly, every inch the leader that she thought he could be. Not trusting her voice to speak, Ginny nodded slowly.

"Oh, Ginny," Neville sighed. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. He's not completely disenchanted with them, but he's close in spots. I think... I think he's really between sides. He didn't know any better when he was forced to join, and I think he's starting to see them for what they really are."

"It can't end well. You'll be hurt."

Ginny wanted to cry at the concern in his voice. Things would be so much simpler for her if she loved Neville. Or stayed in love with Harry. Or loved someone decidedly neutral in this war. But she cared about Draco, worried about him and hoped that something could come out of this.

More fool, her.

"I'll be okay, Nev," Ginny said, trying to smile at Neville. She appreciated that he wasn't trying to swoop in and change things, the way Ron or Harry would. He trusted her in ways they never did, and that meant more to her than Neville probably knew. "I know what I'm doing."

"Does he?"

"Yeah, I think he does."

"If you need anything..." he began uncertainly. "You're like family," Neville said suddenly, leaning forward. "You and the rest of the DA, you're my family. And if there's ever something I can do, anything, you let me know. It'll get done. I'm not Harry, and I can't ever hope to be like him, but I'll do whatever I can."

Ginny moved to grasp his hand tightly in support. "You're a good man, Neville Longbottom. I'm proud to be your friend. And shame on the girl that doesn't agree with me."

He laughed and shook his head. "I'm not letting you off the hook that easily, Ginny. Tell me how it started. Tell me everything."

And amazingly enough, Ginny felt comfortable enough to do so.

***  
***


	7. Finding an Equilibrium

_You said it was a night where anything could happen  
But nothing was gonna last  
And we're doing fine now yeah we do  
We don't feel sad or bad or blue and you know  
We ain't never defeated  
Not broken inside all that is fine_  
Beth Orton, "Daybreaker"

Ginny sat across from Draco at the Three Broomsticks, playing with the coaster beneath her butterbeer. This was the most public they've ever been together, and she could feel the eyes of some patrons on her. What was a Weasley doing with a Malfoy? Was she crazy? Was he? What would make them sit together in public?

"Just relax," Draco murmured softly, running his finger along the rim of his own pint. "There's nothing for them to see, nothing to say. And then Katie will show up, and it'll be easily explained soon enough. You're giving them something to talk about."

Ginny pulled her hands into her lap. "Is there something to talk about?" she asked quietly.

"Don't be stupid," he said, looking away. "We can't talk about it even if there was."

"Is there?" she pressed, not really sure why. Maybe it was the recent conversation with Neville, defending Draco and her involvement with him even as their friends had gone missing.

He turned back to her, gray eyes flashing. It was a warning, saying more than he could ever say out loud. "There's nothing to talk about," he said in a low tone. He held his pint tightly, and he suddenly seemed very tense.

Katie pushed her way into the Three Broomsticks then, and Ginny tore her eyes away from Draco's intense stare. "Shove over, Malfoy," Katie barked as she shook out of her coat. Ginny could see the new haircut that Katie had mentioned, one that hid the places where her hair had gotten singed. She sat in Draco's seat, which left Malfoy scooting around the booth and closer to Ginny. Her hands were still in her lap, and while moving, his own hands were out of view. For a brief moment, his hand covered hers. A light press, a light stroke along her fingers, and then his hands were back where everyone could see them around his glass.

"You look good, Katie," Ginny murmured. She could see the curse scars all over Katie's exposed skin, shining as brightly as light through stained glass. Had they really been that bright before? Had Katie looked as though she was glowing from the inside out? Ginny hadn't remembered that part, hadn't realized that she was lit up in silver.

"We heard about your village," Draco said softly. He bore up well under Katie's stare. Her expression was blank, but he didn't miss the clench of her jaw. "I'm sorry," he continued. "I don't know how I could've helped if I was there, but I'd like to think I'd've done something." Though really, the only thing he could have done was to try to stop Vincent Crabbe in the first place, and he wasn't sure he had any influence over that boy anymore.

Katie merely nodded slowly, then turned to look at the wood grain of the table. A waitress came over to the table. Katie ordered a firewhiskey, glass of water, sandwich and chips. Draco and Ginny added food orders as well. "So you've kept up your studies in my absence, yes?" she asked in a tone that dared them to tell her no.

It might have been Ginny's imagination, but people were instantly less interested in why she was sitting next to Draco Malfoy just then. "I've done the readings," she began.

"I've had some practice with the spellwork," Draco admitted. He ran his thumbnail over the edge of his coaster. He could feel Katie's eyes on him; it was an innocuous statement on its own, but their last discussion had been on rather dangerous but still legal spells that could be used on others. "I had to do something," he continued in a softer tone, "and I couldn't do what they had asked of me. I claimed I was trying to be creative. They bought that."

Ginny couldn't breathe. It was the first time she had heard Draco really talk about being a Death Eater, the first time she heard about anything other than the veiled threat he _might_ be coming after her someday. She wanted to touch him, to see if he was all right, if he had been forced to do anything truly terrible. But she was aware of where they were, and she had to keep her hands to herself and her mouth shut.

Katie ducked her head down slightly. "What did they ask, Draco?" she asked quietly. It wasn't pity in her tone, but something perilously close to understanding.

"I knew the..." Draco turned his head to look at Katie. "Target," he said finally, deciding on a neutral enough word. "I didn't want to do something unforgiveable."

Ginny held her hands in fists on her lap and wanted to cry. They were children being forced to make these kinds of choices. How was this any kind of fair? How could anyone think that this wasn't a war they were fighting?

Katie was nodding, as if this was an ordinary piece of information she was hearing. "I'm proud of you," she said in a soft tone, patting the table next to his hand. She didn't quite touch him, but she made eye contact. "Keeping your head is difficult, and I'm glad you're doing that. You have to keep your wits about you. You can't let them cloud your thinking."

"I don't even know what I'm thinking," Draco told her, then clamped his lips shut unhappily.

"Those friends of yours aren't friends anymore," Katie said in a quiet tone. "So you have to figure out for yourself what you want. It's not easy, not always safe. But I will listen if you need me to." Draco nodded once, but no one at the table thought he would actually come to her with anything. Katie looked to Ginny. "And you?"

"Still in my own skin," she offered with a wan smile. "Not for lack of trying, but we're doing what we can."

"You have to stay alive," Draco hissed, not looking at Ginny directly. Both girls were startled by his vicious tone. "Don't do anything stupid. Don't taunt them. It'll only make things worse for you and your friends. They're brassed off enough as it is."

Ginny could feel Katie's eyes on them, knew she had to be adding things up and coming to a conclusion. She rubbed at her eyes wearily, but was saved from having to answer by the waitress returning with everyone's food.

"To the lost souls of my village," Katie murmured, holding up her firewhiskey. Draco and Ginny lifted up their pints along with her, not sure what to say. Katie turned to look at them, her glass still raised. "To finding the way back home, however covered up the path."

They knocked back the drinks and tucked into the food. They didn't ask about her village, about the deaths, how it felt to know she was alone. Ginny did mention that Katie was the sole survivor on record. For an instant, both Katie and Draco looked as though they were going to contest that statement, but both fell silent. Ginny wondered who else had survived, but filed it away to ask later, when they weren't in a public place. She wished she had been close enough to have a secret sort of language, a common code to ask about that sort of thing. She vaguely remembered Draco talking about it, about a Death Eater that had been in the village. Perhaps Katie knew the fellow but was protecting him. Or ashamed of him.

"I have to get back to..." Katie trailed off with a tight smile. "Well, I have to get back. I've so much to do, you realize."

Ginny reached out and grasped Katie's arm before she could put her coat back on. "Is there anything I can do? Any way to help? I'd really like to."

Katie's face softened and she shook her head as she smiled sadly. "I'll manage. There's things to sort out. What to keep, what to give away..."

"It's not all ash?" Draco asked, stunned enough to blurt out the question.

"The village is gone," Katie said softly, looking down at her trembling fingers on her back of her coat. "Everything's gone, even the churchyard, the stones, the foundations, everything. It's all cinders. My family had another home, though. I have to sort that out." She looked up at them, her expression bleak. "You can't help with what I need to do next."

"I would if I could," Draco murmured. He hadn't been the one to cast the spell, but he had done his own amount of wrong to this girl. She didn't know, obviously, or else she wouldn't have been trying to help mentor him. The guilt of it was starting to gnaw at his insides.

Katie forced a smile to her lips. "I know. It means a lot, both of you. Stay safe, will you? Maybe we can meet next week, and I can tell you something useful."

"Knowing you're alive is useful," Ginny murmured. "That there's a point to all of this."

Her expression froze for the briefest of instants. "I don't know if there is one."

"There has to be," Ginny insisted.

Katie looked down at her coat, then shrugged it on. "I don't think there's a point to everything. I think there's the points you make for yourself when you try to figure it out. Sometimes all you can do is hang on tight and hope there's time to figure it out eventually." She buttoned up her coat slowly. "I don't think I have yet."

"It was an accident," Draco said, looking at her with an intent expression. He didn't think she would believe him, but he could hope.

Katie paused and looked up at him. Draco couldn't explain the look that passed through her features; it was too fast, maybe something like anger and disappointment mixed together. But it was gone before he could identify it. "I suppose you would say something like that."

Though she didn't emphasize the "you," Draco and Ginny both heard it.

He reached out for her, but stopped before making contact. She would probably backhand him if he tried to offer any condolences or comfort. "I found out after. I believe it, that it was an accident. He's not clever and he thinks he is." Katie merely stared at him, and Draco dropped his arm back to his side. "I don't know how to fix it, or how to help, but I want to. I'm not just saying that, Katie. I want to fix what went wrong."

She resumed buttoning her coat with shaking fingers. Some part of her wanted to throttle him until he saw that the damned mark on his arm meant nothing but death. Another wanted to hide and cry until the end of the world, which seemed to be coming sooner rather than later. But she had to stay on her feet, fighting until the world ended. She had to keep going.

"I'm not sure what you could do," Katie said finally, patting her scarf into place. She fixed both teens with a heavy glance. "But stay alive and keep your heads down. I can come back next week and check on your progress."

Ginny hugged Katie impulsively. Katie stood there, stunned and overwhelmed by it, and Ginny stepped back quickly. "Sorry. I just... You've done a lot in the past few months. Words aren't enough to thank you." She offered Katie an embarrassed smile. "I've been a pain in the arse, but you've really come through. I didn't even get you a present."

"I don't need one," Katie protested as Draco said quickly "I did."

Both girls turned to look at him. "You could probably say it's from both of us, if you want," Draco said quickly. He dug a miniaturized box out of his pocket. "Open it when you get home. It's books."

There was something in how frazzled he looked that made Katie simply put the box in her pocket without looking at it more closely. "Thank you. Happy Christmas, then."

Draco sat back down after Katie left. He felt wrung out, though he couldn't say why. Seeing Ginny again was supposed to help, but it hadn't. If anything, he was feeling worse somehow, as if he was letting her down. "We should go," he said after a moment.

Ginny had been waiting in silence, hoping he would say _something_ after all of that. There was so much she wanted to ask him, other things she wanted to say. "I could study for next week," she murmured, nodding.

"I'll meet you in our study place," Draco said, not looking at her when he moved to put his coat on. "It should be quiet now."

Her stomach was tied in knots out of nerves. She nodded and put on her own coat. "That's good."

They separated prior to the castle and found their separate ways into the Chamber of Secrets. Ginny had her arms wrapped around herself tightly, her eyes shining with tears she refused to shed. Now was not the time to cry. She had to do something, if she could just figure out what it was. She looked up as Draco made his way into the Chamber to sit beside her. "How bad is it getting out there?" she asked quietly, pulling her knees up to her chest.

He let her put her head on his shoulder as he thought about his answer. "I couldn't avoid doing what he asked of me before. I really can't now." He rested his hand on her knee gently. "You need to stop meeting with me like this. Whatever this is, it can't work, the way things are going right now. It's going to get us killed."

"Do you really believe that?" Ginny asked, trying to keep herself calm. He was one of the bright spots in her life right now, and to have him want to throw it away...

"Potter ran, Ginny," Draco murmured. "How is your side supposed to win? If that's how it's going to be, the others won't simply let you go on doing whatever it is you're doing. And you and Longbottom can't hide forever." He sighed, rubbing the side of her knee with the ball of his thumb. "I can't... I wouldn't be able to do anything to you if they caught you, and then it would mean that they catch me. They're already on the lookout for weakness in me, in my father. They already doubt us."

"Who did you have to torture?" Ginny asked quietly, shifting so that she could slide her arm against him. "Why did you need Katie's spells?"

"They took classmates from the Hogwarts Express," Draco told her dully. "It was Fitch-Fletchley that day." He tilted his head to look at her sadly. "I helped Luna as much as I could. I know she's a friend of yours."

Something in her chest tightened painfully. "How is she? How are the rest of them?"

"It's not something you're going to want to hear, Ginny," Draco murmured. "You want to hear that it's going well, that people are fighting and that this will all end. It's not going to. More people are bowling over and letting us do whatever we want."

"Us?"

"I'm a Death Eater," Draco replied dully. "Do I need to show you the mark again?"

Ginny moved so that she was facing him. "You can still fight them. You can fight them from the inside out, can't you? You can stop them from doing this."

"The fucking Dark Lord is in my _home,_ Ginny. He's using the Manor as a base of operations and is keeping prisoners in it. My own family can't do a damned thing about it, and it's our home. What do you think _I_ can do?"

She cupped his face in her hands. "I believe in you, Draco. You are more than just that mark."

He sighed and covered her hands with his. "I want to believe that, I really do. But I don't see any hope of this stopping. It's only going to get worse. They're going to kill or imprison everyone that they consider a blood traitor or a muggle."

"Meaning me, too."

_"Yes."_

He'd never said he cared about her. He never said he loved her. But the desperation in his tone on that one word carried the meaning of all the words he couldn't say.

Ginny leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth, softly at first. It became more heated, until their tongues were in each others' mouths and her hands were slipping beneath his shirt to touch his skin. He groaned, his hands tangled in her hair, and pulled her down on top of him. She could feel his arousal, could feel her own desire as he touched her. It didn't matter where they were, who they had to be loyal to. There was this moment before the world fell apart around them.

"I have an idea," Ginny moaned against his neck, her arms around him. His own hands were busy taking apart her clothes, trying to get beneath them to the skin.

"What?" he asked, dragging his head back to look her in the eye.

She touched his kiss swollen lips. "You could pretend to use me."

Draco blinked and for a moment couldn't breathe. "No."

"It gives us a reason to be together. We met because of this mentorship with Katie, we got to talking, you realized I knew some things from my family..."

"No."

"Draco, you can pass information along easily. You can still stop them, and it will look like you're trying to help them."

"You don't understand," he said tightly, grasping her face in his hands. "It will be so much worse for us if they know we lied."

"I thought you were a skilled liar?" Ginny asked, trying to make light of it.

He looked at her sadly. He knew his Occlumency and Ligilmency. Between Snape and Bellatrix drilling him mercilessly, he could protect himself. The problem wasn't him, not at all. It was _Ginny_ and her damned Gryffindor tendencies.

"What?" she asked, self conscious under his stare. "What is it?"

"I'm not the one to worry about."

"I can take care of myself, Draco," Ginny murmured, leaning in to kiss him again. "I'm a big girl. I know all sorts of things you don't."

"Like what?"

She murmured the Parseltongue words she could remember while her hands slipped beneath the edge of his trousers. He gulped at the feel of her hands on him, at the determined look on her face. "No matter what I say, you want to do this." She nodded. "Why?"

"They used me before," Ginny said in a soft voice. "They'll believe you. They'll believe they can use me again." Draco could see the hurt in her expression, the pain she never wanted to show anyone else. "But we'll know it's not true. We'll know it's to make them pay."

"You still believe there's a point to that. How can you win if Potter's gone?"

"We'll win because Tom is evil and sloppy. He rules by fear, not loyalty." She hovered over him, her hands stroking him. "He doesn't love anyone or anything, and he doesn't understand it. He thinks it's stupid. But it's the only thing worth keeping when the world ends, and it's the only reason why we have to do this. Because _this_ is worth saving, Draco," she murmured, leaning down to kiss him. "Because I love you, and I refuse to be afraid of that."

He shuddered beneath her, eyes wide and luminous as he watched her move above him. She shouldn't love him. She shouldn't.

But she did, and being Ginny, she wouldn't stop just because he told her to.

"Fuck, Ginny," he growled, pulling her down on top of him. "Don't you dare tell anybody," he said as he kissed her. "Don't let them use it against you." He kissed her again, hungrily, drowning in the sensation of her. "I love you," he said against the column of her throat. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you."

Ginny moved into place above him. Why did their first time together have to be a dark, damp, filthy place? Why did they have to hide this and act as if they were ashamed?

Draco cradled her close to him afterward, his eyes closed. He wished he could have done this properly, that he could have made it something better to remember.

They loved each other, and that was dangerous the way things were now. This would have to do.

***

Out of a sense of guilt, Crabbe gave Marcus a Gringotts vault. "It won't replace things," he'd said, handing over the vault key. "But you can have another shop." Crabbe had left when Marcus snarled at him, but it gave him something to think about. Katie would return to classes soon enough. He'd be left behind in the house, with nothing to do until he was summoned somewhere.

Sod that.

The seaside village was small and insular, the way these small villages were. They knew the Bells faintly, the Flints not at all. There was no one in the village that looked down on him because he was from a lower class. No one knew he'd repeated seventh year here; even if it had been to help his father, the village had always seen him as stupid. This was a new start for him here. He could be honorable here, helpful or intelligent. He didn't have to be a Death Eater here, didn't have to be feared or fearful. Everything was new.

Though he and Katie had taken a few walks in the village, he hadn't had much chance to really explore. The day Katie had to attend her classes again, Marcus explored the village on his own. There were a handful of shops, but no stone works. Something like his family's shop had been fairly specialized.

Without realizing it, he wandered into an open area attached to an empty shop for rent. It was a good stone storage yard, a good area to work on larger pieces. He could start again, use Crabbe's blood money to begin a new shop.

"Can I help you?"

Marcus turned toward the voice. It was the real estate agent, coming to see who was wandering about. Marcus nodded at the man genially. "I hope so. I'm thinking about renting this shop."

Winters were always slow in resort towns. The agent smiled at Marcus, pleased to finally have something to do. "Well, then. Why don't we get in out of the cold and discuss rents and what your needs are, sir?" The agent pointed to a shop front down the street. "Just down there. Say, you're Miss Bell's young man, aren't you? From her village?"

Marcus stilled slightly. Maybe there _wasn't_ a way to start over. "Word travels fast."

"Small villages," the agent said with a smile, hoping he didn't lose business. He grasped Marcus' hand. "My condolences, young man. It was such horrible news to hear. I can't even begin to imagine your loss."

He felt cold and hollow. This was a terrible idea. He couldn't do this. He couldn't rebuild a stone works shop. He couldn't do this without his father...

But somehow by the end of the afternoon, he was renting that very shop front and enclosed yard. The agent had also given him the contact information for quarries around the local area as well as several towns over. Some of the quarries were Muggle-owned. Marcus wasn't sure how he felt about that. He wasn't avidly bigoted the way some of the elder generation was, but he didn't know much about them and that made him uncomfortable.

Owning the shop seemed to help things for him a little. If he had a heart, it might have broken when he ran his hands over a slab of marble that his father would have enjoyed working with. If he had a heart, telling Katie about the shop would have been harder to do. He leered and asked her to help him christen the shop when she visited on a lunch break. Katie's expression was unreadable as she looked at him. She finally cast a charm that covered the shop front's windows with a thick velvet curtain. "I'm not an exhibitionist." She turned to him, her lips quirked into a smile. "What did you have in mind?"

Over that piece of marble. On his work bench. On the desk in the back room where he did accounts. On the floor amidst the stone dust. Leaning against the wall, or bent over his work station. Or under the starry sky in the enclosed yard late at night. Marcus had an impressive imagination when he let it go wild, and most of them starred Katie.

With his kind of luck, it was only a matter of time before he was found out. He had kept his whereabouts between meetings to himself; he didn't want Katie involved, didn't want anyone else getting any bright ideas and slaughtering everyone in this new village. If he was cursed, it was best to only happen to him. Marcus was carving a winged angel when Warrington walked into the shop, looking about the large gallery room with an impressed expression. "Flint, you've outdone yourself."

Marcus nearly drew the chisel across his fingers in surprise, but managed a scowl at his friend. "What in blazes are you doing here?"

"Can't I visit a friend?" the blond man replied, lips quirking into a smile. "You're a very difficult man to find once you set your mind to it."

"Can't blame me for that one," Marcus replied darkly, brows pulled into a fearsome expression. "I should obliviate you."

The smile on Warrington's face slipped. "Do you really think I'd do you harm?" he asked quietly, hurt in his tone.

"Not you," Marcus allowed, putting down his chisel. "But someone you told might. We hadn't thought much of Crabbe, after all."

"Point," Warrington allowed. He reached out and touched the angel that was forming from the marble. "You've always been talented wherever you put your mind to it."

Warrington could have played quidditch after school if he wanted to. He preferred being the scion of his family, doing the social whirl to secure an appropriate bride. Warrington could have been _anything,_ and he was turning into a copy of his father.

Marcus swallowed down his bitterness and nodded at Warrington. "What brings you here, then?"

"We're worried about you. Hiding, not talking to us anymore. It's as if more than your body was scarred by that fire, and we want to help." At Marcus' sour look, Warrington shrugged. "We're worried, mate. You were dead, then you weren't, and now you're simply gone half the time with no explanation. What are we supposed to think?"

"That maybe I want to be left alone a while," Marcus replied. He leaned against the workbench that lined the side of the front gallery in the shop. This angel he was carving was his first commission, meant to be placed in the park opposite the village hall. This was important, to see if he could succeed under his own merits, rather than just his father's reputation. Warrington wouldn't understand that. Higgs or Montague might, since they weren't quite so posh and knew what hard work was.

"Marcus! I brought lunch!" Katie called out as she entered the shop. She was in a good mood, so her morning classes couldn't have gone terribly. Marcus was heartened to hear that, but his nerves were rattled. He didn't want Warrington anywhere near her.

She stopped short when she walked around the statues and saw them at the workbench. "Oh. I didn't realize you had company."

"You can set up lunch in the office," Marcus said, gesturing behind him vaguely, glaring at Warrington. "We were finishing up."

Warrington's eyebrows lifted, but he nodded. "Well, you should both come by for dinner. I know the lads would like to see you again," he said to Marcus. He watched as Katie went into the back office, obviously knowing the way well. "I understand staying away, mate, but honestly, what do you think we'd do? Maul the girl?" he hissed at Marcus.

His jaw tightened. "I didn't think anything would happen to my father."

Warrington had the grace to look flustered. "Well, that wasn't _us."_ He clapped Marcus on the shoulder. "Just owl me if you're coming over. Obviously, things need to be said."

Marcus nodded stiffly and waited until Warrington left to lock the front door of the shop and head into the back office. Katie had set out the sandwiches, chips and drinks for the both of them, and had been waiting. "Look, Katie..."

"I have good hearing," she said shortly. "Do you want to go?"

He sat down next to her and reached for his sandwich before answering. "I don't know."

"They're your friends," Katie murmured. She picked up her own sandwich and watched Marcus take a bite carefully. "I'd go with you. I can help if you need a cover with them." He looked at her in alarm, nearly choking on his mouthful of food. "They won't tell if I'm lying or not," she continued quietly. "The spell damage... I don't know how, but no one can use Ligilmency on me. It's like a natural Occlumency. It's even hard to use Obliviate or Imperius. It's an extra resistance to anything affecting my mind."

"I can't ask you to do that," Marcus said slowly, putting his sandwich down.

"You're not asking," she replied, putting hers down as well. "I'm volunteering."

"The Order doesn't trust me as it is. I know they don't, no matter how many times I meet with them. Shacklebolt's going to think I'm corrupting you."

"I don't give a bloody fuck what he thinks," Katie said tightly, shaking her head. "If you need me to, I will help you. I'll do whatever needs to be done."

Marcus leaned forward and kissed her forehead, letting his lips hover there for a moment. It seemed as though that fire was simultaneously the best and worst thing that had ever happened in his miserable life. "I won't make you go with me."

"Owl him," Katie murmured, her own eyes closed. She reached out and rested her hands on his shoulders, feeling calmer now that she knew what he was thinking. "It'll be all right. We're in this together, Marcus."

***  
***


	8. Faces In The Firelight

_Spring shall come, come again, calling up the moor-fowl,   
Spring shall bring the sun and rain, bring the bees and flowers;   
Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley,   
Soft flow the stream through the even-flowing hours;   
Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood--   
Fair shine the day on the house with open door;   
Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney--   
But I go for ever and come again no more._  
Robert Louis Stevenson, "Home No More To Me"

For an impossible, frightening moment, Katie was certain that she was walking into a trap.

Marcus was standing beside her, his hand at the small of her back as she walked down the hall in Warrington's family home. Warrington, Montague, Pucey, Bletchley and Higgs were all there for dinner, and she was the only woman in attendance. For a moment, terror clawed at her heart, and she wondered if she had made a fatal mistake. Had Shacklebolt been right? Was Marcus playing her for a fool? Did he plan to turn her over to these friends of his for torture and rape, so that she would never be found again? The whispers in the corridors of the Ministry were full of these dark tales, and it was only too easy to believe.

Her step faltered, and Marcus turned his head slightly to look at her in concern. Katie pasted a wan smile on her face, but he wasn't fooled. He knew she was worried about something.

When had that happened? When did he start caring about her? Or had he always? It had seemed that way in Shacklebolt's questioning, but that had been infatuation. This seemed like it was something more. But more importantly, when did she start caring back?

Marcus made the introductions once they were seated in a small parlor that was meant to be inviting but was more forbidding than anything else. Katie always dressed demurely now, but she wished for more layers of clothing, something to hide herself in. They couldn't read her mind even if they wanted to, but she felt the need for protection of some kind.

"I have to admit, it was a bit of a shock," Higgs said, breaking the awkward silence in the room. He scratched the back of his head. It was probably a move meant to make him seem endearing and confused, but didn't help settle Katie's nerves in the slightest. "I mean, there was word that Flint was _dead,_ and then he shows up again. And he's with _you."_ He smiled, all of his teeth showing. "There's talk that fire was because of Muggles. What do you think?"

_"Terence."_ Marcus was glowering at him, and Katie turned to look at him, startled. "Back off or we're leaving."

"Oi," Pucey began, leaning forward, hands outstretched and open. "Listen. I for one just want to understand what happened. You're from the same village, right?" Katie nodded at him, her eyes wide and expression blank. "I'm sorry about what happened. Flint said the two of you are the only ones that made it out alive?"

Warrington had been at the side bar and brought over drinks. Katie thought of refusing; she wasn't much for hard liquor and if her hands shook it would be too easily seen. But she accepted a glass when Marcus did, and sipped it gingerly. "There wasn't anyone else," Katie said after a moment, managing not to grimace at the whiskey in the glass. She wasn't sure what Marcus had told this bunch about what had happened; they were his mates before the fire, and he might have changed the story to seem better.

"I told you already," Marcus said impatiently. He had drained half the glass in one gulp. "I saved her life. There was no one else and the village was _burning._ Just let it go." He was all but snarling at his friends, and Katie wondered how in the world he thought he could fool them into thinking that he was on their side still.

Katie put a hand on his arm, a look of concern on her face. "They're just worried about you."

"Right," Pucey said, relieved and gesturing at Katie. Montague and Warrington also seemed to be relieved. Higgs was just staring at them impassively. Bletchley was rifling through the liquor cabinet, his back to them. "He doesn't talk about it," Pucey said to Katie, leaning forward a little. "So I'm not surprised we didn't know about you until recently, let alone that you're together."

"It's none of your business," Marcus snarled at him, his grip on the glass tight enough to cause his knuckles to whiten.

"Let's take a walk," Warrington said in a light tone. "Why don't we see what's keeping dinner."

"I don't—"

"She'll be fine, mate," Bletchley said in a lazy tone from his position at the bar. He was holding a bottle of vodka and making himself a liberal glass of vodka and tonic. "What? Do you think we'd just stash her in a room somewhere and steal her away from you?" he asked sardonically. "What do you take us for?"

But both of their faces were chalk white, and Pucey could only shake his head. "Look. You've been secretive mate. And we're your family, so we just want to know what she's like."

"I'm in the room," Katie said tightly, breaking in. "No need to pretend I'm not here."

Montague snickered, breaking the tension further. "Flint, do you honestly think she'd let anything past her? I remember you on the pitch, Bell. Shockingly good aim. How is it now?"

"Better," Katie said, cracking a smile in spite of herself. It wasn't a complete lie, either. She'd been training hard ever since leaving St. Mungo's to get her athletic skill back, and the law enforcement program had honed it even sharper.

Montague waved Marcus off. "For Merlin's sake, man. Just step outside for a few to cool off. We won't bite even if she asks us to."

"And that's not bloody likely," Katie said evenly, looking at him pointedly.

Montague only laughed, and Marcus seemed mollified enough to let Warrington drag him off.

"What happened?" Pucey asked, waiting a few minutes to be sure that Warrington and Marcus were out of earshot. "How'd you survive it? You don't even look burned."

Katie could feel Bletchley's and Higgs' eyes on her, taking in her covered up appearance. She put the glass down and kept her hands folded tightly in her lap. "Mum pushed me out of the way. I was at home. I didn't even know what was happening at the time. I mean, my mum and I were having a piece of cake..." She could feel the blood drain from her face as she remembered it, the taste of the cake on her tongue, then the panic and the heat as the fire came through the living room, the feel of her mother's hands pushing at her. "I can't," she said abruptly, and fled the room. She couldn't process their startled gazes, that even the bland looks on Bletchley's and Higgs' face had changed to one of concern.

Katie crashed into the wall opposite the doorway, turning frantically to look at the hallway. There was a loo somewhere. She remembered Marcus pointing it out. She had to get to the loo before she started crying, before she completely broke down.

Marcus had her in his arms before she even realized what was happening, and she buried her face in his chest and just breathed in the scent of him. He cradled her, making shushing noises. No doubt he was glaring at his friends for upsetting her, and it helped to calm her down somewhat. She hadn't realized she was crying, that she had gotten so comfortable around Marcus that she could let him see her cry. She wiped at her eyes and wanted to stomp her foot at the sight of the eye makeup smeared across the back of her hand. "Wh-where's the loo?" she asked, getting her voice to even out. "I need to fix this."

"Two doors down on the left," Warrington cut in, concern coloring his voice.

Katie merely nodded and ducked into the loo without looking at him. She locked the door and grabbed the sink with both hands for balance. This was a disaster. How was she supposed to do this if thinking about the fire made her panic? How could she possibly be an artifact investigator if she couldn't even handle one fucking conversation?

Her footfalls were soft, so no one heard her approach the parlor. Marcus was practically snarling at his friends for upsetting her, for even mentioning the fire and their home village. He seemed especially angry with Higgs, for trying to make a political statement out of it. "This is Vince's fault, the sodding wanker! Don't try to change that!"

Bletchley noticed Katie standing in the doorway first. The other men noticed him straighten up, and they all looked at Katie. Marcus looked almost guilty; prior to the dinner, he had assured her that the others didn't know that she knew the truth about the fire.

"Vince?" she asked. There was no need to pretend her voice was strained and thin. She was already feeling stupid for breaking down in front of them.

"Vincent Crabbe. Who's already been dealt with," Bletchley said. He plopped down into an armchair; most of his vodka was already gone, and there had been very little tonic in it.

"Look. You might not want to talk about it," Higgs said, glaring at Marcus, "but the fact of the matter, it's a valid concern. There's talk," he began, looking over at Katie in the doorway, "that the whole mess was started because of muggles."

"But Vincent Crabbe isn't a muggle. He was a piss poor beater on the quidditch team," Katie returned. She gingerly sat back down where she had been before, ignoring the glass still by her side. At this point, she wasn't going to touch it. She didn't trust anyone in the room other than Marcus, and had no idea what might be in it.

Montague laughed. "You know, mate, I like her," he said to Marcus. "To the point and obsessed with quidditch, just like you."

"Politics," Higgs said as if Montague hadn't spoken, "are important now. You need to know who your allies are and what they believe in."

He was going to be the difficult sell in the room. Maybe Bletchley, considering he was quiet and observing as well. But he was also steadily drinking his way through Warrington's liquor cabinet, so Katie really only had one target to keep in her sights.

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked, taking the innocent approach.

"Muggles are dangerous," Higgs said flatly. "The muggleborns are coming into the villages and the schools, they're taking jobs and they're talking about magic to muggles. They're breaking the statute of secrecy, and they're upsetting our entire way of life."

"Are you serious?" Katie said, letting a touch of incredulity through. "There have been plenty of muggleborn students at school and they're just fine. The world hadn't ended yet."

Higgs shrugged. "Maybe there are some individuals that can keep their mouth shut. I'm talking in general here." He turned to Marcus. "You know I'm right, mate, so you can stop staring at me as if you'd like to slit my throat. She knows what you are."

The room had gone quiet at that, and Katie knew this was a test of some kind. "What are you getting at, then? What's this all about?"

"He said you're in school," Pucey began, trying to shift the conversation.

"The law enforcement program," Katie answered, nodding.

"Right," Higgs said, pointing at Katie with his glass. "Magical law, yeah?"

"Of course it is," she said, frowning at him. "It's basic training and memorizing all our laws."

_"Our_ laws, not theirs. They don't learn that in Hogwarts," Higgs pointed out. "They don't grow up knowing them, knowing how it works. They don't know how to live in our society, but we just welcome them in like they're one of us. We give them jobs and a place to go, but they go back where they came from and take magic with them. That endangers all of us, even the law abiding ones, and they have weapons. There's more of them than there are of us, and the muggles can finally be rid of us as they've tried to do so many times before."

Katie looked at him, at the fervor he spoke with. He believed this. He utterly and truly believed this, and there was no way the Order could understand what they were dealing with.

Because there was that grain of truth in it, and the Order didn't want to acknowledge it.

"There's laws," Katie said, shaking her head. "The Ministry—"

"Ah, you got yourself an idealist, Flint!" Higgs said, throwing his hands up in disgust. "That's all the goody-goody Gryffindors are, isn't it?"

"Higgs," Marcus began in a warning tone, features contorted into a glower.

"The Ministry you hold so dear is full of those muggleborns," Higgs said, turning to face Katie. She could see Bletchley going for more alcohol out of the corner of her eye, and the other men were all looking resigned to Higgs' diatribe. Apparently, this was a frequent topic of discussion.

"There's still a procedure," Katie protested, shaking her head. "It's not like anyone can just go in and change things."

"Ha!" Higgs returned, wagging his finger at her. "You just watch. All that we know is changing, and the fools in office are letting it happen. Muggleborns are coming in, changing everything we have ever done just because it doesn't suit them."

"That isn't—" Katie cut herself off, thinking of Hermione and her anti-house elf campaign back at Hogwarts. "It doesn't always happen," she said faintly.

"But it _does_ happen," Higgs said fervently, leaning forward. It wasn't triumph per se, but her acknowledgement seemed to please him. "It happens enough that we're in danger. But if we say something, we're branded traitors to our people. That it's sedition, that we're trying to overthrow the government and kill our own kind."

"Aren't you?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "My family's done _nothing_ and they're dead."

Higgs seemed to deflate somewhat at her heated tone. "It's not... That was an accident."

Katie thought of Draco's halting words at the Three Broomsticks, the quiet desperation in his tone. He hadn't wanted her to think he condoned it, but he was still trying to excuse what happened. It was an accident. Pures didn't mean to kill other pures, but it just happened in the fight to convince a few pures to kill those of mixed blood.

She was heartsick. What was happening to the world around her? When had it all gone insane?

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," Katie said, turning away from Higgs.

"Good," Pucey said with a sharp nod. "There's better things, yeah? You're in training at the law enforcement program. You going to be an Auror like your friend?"

It had been the rumor back at Hogwarts that Pucey had a crush on Angelina. Angelina had been flattered, but hadn't really thought much about him. Alicia had flirted with him a spell, then Montague. Montague's older sister had words with Alicia, putting a stop to it before she left Hogwarts with Spencer. Katie remembered being amused by the whole situation and glad she hadn't been part of it.

She shook her head at Pucey. "Artifact Investigation, if my application is accepted."

Montague whistled and the others looked impressed. "That's difficult to get into."

Katie nodded. "I'm hoping that doing the mentorship program will help my chances."

"Mentoring?" Warrington asked, looking interested. "So someone guides you through the program and makes recommendations?"

"More like I'm guiding students through what I think is important for them to know. But I'm working with two students, so I'm hoping it looks that much better for me."

"Who is it?" Montague asked, curious.

"Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley."

Most of the men were surprised by that combination. "Huh. I had no idea he was even interested in that sort of thing," Montague said thoughtfully.

"Well, I've been coaching them on the basic law enforcement program. I don't know if he's more interested in the Auror program or not. He's asked after that one."

Things continued in that vein for a few more minutes, until Warrington decided it was time for dinner. Higgs tried to steer the conversation back to politics a few more times, but overall it was a much better evening than Katie thought it would be.

"You were pretty honest with them," Marcus murmured that evening, undressing with his back to her. As much as they shared a bed, he was conscious of the fact that she still considered their room her parents' room. She also seemed to be disconcerted whenever she caught him staring at her, still uncomfortable with showing off her skin.

"They weren't a bad sort. Higgs was obnoxious and didn't know when to shut it, but he wasn't evil either." Katie moved to stand in front of him, only half dressed. Marcus was clearly startled by that when he looked up to see her. "I can see why you want to save them if you could."

"I didn't—"

"I could tell. You didn't want to say anything terrible about them before this." She sat down beside him and touched his leg. "They're your friends. You don't want them to get hurt."

Marcus slipped his hand through hers. "They're going to, no matter who wins."

"Yeah." Katie looked at him in concern. "I'm sorry."

"I knew what I was getting into," Marcus told her, shaking his head. "They knew what it meant when they took the mark. It's not as if we were coerced or lied to. We know what it's about. We know why we do it."

"They care about you."

He wondered if she cared about him, if she worried about his duplicitous role at all. "Yeah."

"We'll make it work out somehow," Katie said, pressing her lips to his temple.

Marcus cupped her face in his hand and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. She deepened the kiss, and they fell backward onto the bed.

If it hadn't gone well that night, if any of them had threatened to harm her, he wouldn't have thought twice about hexing them. Or killing them, if it came down to it. She was the important one to him, the one that made this whole farce worth living through. There was nowhere else to be but at her side. It wasn't because she was the one that had saved his life or that he had been infatuated with her since his seventh year at Hogwarts. He couldn't have said why she was so important, why he needed her so much. All he knew was that he did, and he would do anything for her. If she felt even a fraction of that in return, it would be enough.

***

"You have to stop."

Ginny looked up as Draco came into the Chamber of Secrets, looking even more pale than he usually did. "Draco, we already agreed not to talk about this."

"Whatever you're planning with Longbottom and the rest of them, _stop._ I'm telling you, they're on the lookout for you. They're just waiting for you to slip up so they can torture you to death. You have to stop. You can't give them that excuse, Ginny."

He sat across from her, concern etched onto his features. He looked tired, and Ginny knew it had nothing to do with their classes. He'd barely been able to stay awake long enough to congratulate Katie on passing her exams at the end of January. Ginny knew her actions as co-leader of the DA was keeping him up at night, but wasn't willing to stop their activities. The Death Eaters had to be stopped, and she was one of the few in the school willing and able to do something about it.

"With a family like mine," she began softly, "do you really think I could do any different?"

Draco took her hand in his. His fingers were cold, like ice. "I had to try."

She shoved his sleeve up, exposing the Dark Mark. It was such an ugly thing, and it looked even worse whenever Voldemort put forth a call. "You can still turn on them. You can be something more than this mark."

He shook his head sadly. "With a family like mine," he echoed with a wry smile.

"I had to try."

They smiled sadly; they had both known this would be difficult. They were caught up in what was happening around them as much as they didn't want to be, and there were few options left. He refused to claim to use her, and she refused to claim to use him.

"Watch yourself," Draco murmured, running his fingers along her cheeks. "They're vicious and they're looking for you. I can't help you if certain people catch you."

"I've been careful," Ginny said, pressing his hand against her face and leaning into his touch. "I know what's at stake here."

"I can't lose you," Draco said softly. "You can't let them take you."

It wouldn't be a choice if the Carrows had their way, but so far the Headmaster had disallowed some of their favorite tortures. They couldn't simply take students they wanted to torture and play with. They couldn't simply destroy lives, even muggleborn ones. The school was the last safe haven, as difficult as it was. Outside of the school, muggleborn witches and wizards simply disappeared. Sometimes bodies were found, sometimes they weren't.

Ginny leaned in to kiss him. "I won't let them." They would have to kill her first.

"There's some talk..." he began uncertainly as Ginny kissed his neck. "I overheard Amycus tell Alecto that they're willing to go over Snape's authority. They don't think he'll last much longer in the organization anyway. They're planning to kidnap some students before hols."

"I'm one of their favorite targets," Ginny said, pulling back to look at his miserable expression.

"Don't let them catch you," he repeated. "I can't stop them. I can't do anything if they decide to attack me."

She rubbed her thumb along his lips, then leaned in to kiss him. "I won't come back, then. I'll find something else to do, some other way to help. But I'll leave early and I won't come back."

It was February and Easter was early this year. They didn't have much time left together at all.

They had to make the most of it.

***

There were many ways in and out of Hogwarts castle, and most of the Death Eaters knew only the official ones. Some of the unofficial ones, such as the tunnel behind the one eyed witch, were known as well. But Ginny and the twins had been crawling all over the castle, so there were many routes they knew about that few others did.

And she knew the routes through the pipes and hollowed walls that the basilisk had used.

Following one of these led her to Hogsmeade. There was a curfew in effect, of course, so Ginny didn't actually exit into the village. She and Neville had managed to make several new routes in and out of the castle throughout the year. They probably had learned quite a bit of esoteric magic in the Restricted Section in order to do it, and Ginny was proud of the effort they had made. It was something the Death Eaters didn't know about. It was a secret amongst the DA members, something tangible. There were ways in and out. There were ways around the Death Eaters, ways to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris. There was a Resistance at work, and there was hope.

It was the most important thing, to have hope. There was little enough of it elsewhere.

Ginny didn't plan on going home for Easter hols, so she had to figure out _something_ to do with herself in the interim. She couldn't be at Hogwarts, and it would be difficult to evade detection for long if she lived inside its walls. The castle might be full of hiding places, but she still had to emerge for food and bodily needs. There was only so long that she could hide before she slipped and was caught. She had to be practical about that.

And what to do about Draco? He was terrified for her, but also terrified to act. His life lay on the line, as well as the lives of his parents. He had drawn away from his former friends, and they had noticed that. He couldn't rely on them as allies in this, and the fragile solace he had found with her would be gone. Ginny was afraid that he would break, that he would be pulled along with the other Death Eaters and embrace everything he had been fighting hard not to. He was better than that, but there was little she could do about it.

They had both made their choices with their eyes wide open. They had started seeing each other as more than just nuisances knowing full well what the conflicts would be. There was too much stacked against them, especially regarding family and political alliances. There couldn't be a happily ever after for them, as much as she wanted there to be one. If his side won, her family would be reviled, punished and possibly killed. If her side won, his family would be reviled and punished. They likely wouldn't be killed, but for proud Malfoys, being ostracized might as well be death.

She risked an unsigned owl the day she went into hiding. It had been sent by school owl, and she had been careful to use parchment obtained by a house elf, a teacher's quill and wore gloves while standing in the owlery while writing it. Just in case it fell into the wrong hands, it wouldn't be traced back to her. She didn't want Draco to be tortured because someone caught him with an owl, even if she didn't sign it.

_I love you. Stay safe. Please think of me kindly._

She didn't expect a reply, but it tore her heart to shreds not to receive one.

***  
***


	9. Innocence Lost

_Shelter me from this again  
Dedicated to the end  
Help me break my conscience in  
To free us from our innocence  
I am losing you again  
Let me out and let me in  
'Cause you're not alone here  
Not at all  
Let me belong here  
Break my fall_  
Breaking Benjamin, "Break My Fall"

The Warringtons held a gala every Easter, inviting all of the Pureblood elite. Of course the Death Eaters would be attending in force, and it was expected that everyone branded with the Mark would arrive for the gala. It was also expected that there would be "entertainment" of some kind afterward, to be provided by the Warringtons and Malfoys to honor the Dark Lord.

So of course, Marcus and Katie had to be there.

Her best dress robes were nowhere near as nice as some of the elite dresses the Pureblood witches were wearing, but Katie at least fit in. Marcus had been fitted for a set of new dress robes, and he had glowered more than usual throughout the entire thing. The glower returned as they got ready for the gala, and only lessened a fraction when they arrived at the Warrington estate. Katie kept her eyes open and her mouth shut, taking in various members of the Ministry that she hadn't expected. That included the director of the Auror program, Chester Woodmere, who was deep in conversation with Gregory Goyle's father. There were so many faces she didn't recognize, and she tried to do her best to at least get a good glimpse of them. She could always pull the memories out later for others to recognize.

Marcus brought Katie over to his friends. Over the past three months, she had met with them and their girlfriends at various dinners or parties. Bletchley's fiancée had been killed on New Year's Eve by Order members during a raid on a Death Eater party. That had explained the steady drinking the day she had met him at Warrington's. Even at this Easter party, Bletchley spent most of his time close to the bar. Montague was with Cassiopeia Greeley, a distant cousin that his mother had recommended due to her bloodline. She wasn't terribly bright, but she was pretty and had pure blood. Pucey often dated Honoria Hackleback, who had been a Ravenclaw in his year at school and now was working at the Ministry's Accidental Magic Reversal Department. Higgs attended the party with Estella Medill, who was an assistant to the Undersecretary of Education. Warrington's mother was using the gala to fish for a future daughter-in-law, and he was more than happy to let her.

Katie was stuck with Cassiopeia, Honoria and Estella for most of the cocktail hour. They did know a lot about the assembled party, so Katie was able to coax stories out of them under the guise of gossip. Honoria was friends with Iris Parkinson, Pansy's cousin. That eventually led to the Parkinson girls, Millicent Bulstrode and the Greengrass sisters to join them. Katie hadn't known any of the girls well at school, as they had been below her and in Slytherin. Admitting that led to more gossip and conversation, though Millicent was the quietest of the new arrivals.

"What are you doing with Marcus?" Iris asked, a sharpness in her tone that Katie didn't like. She had the most vicious things to say about Ministry members not in attendance at the gala, and the long sleeved formal gloves hid any potential Dark Mark on her left arm.

"We're together," Katie replied, eyebrow arched. "Why?"

"It's been that way for months, dear," Honoria told Iris. "But then, you spend time at different parties now, so I'm not surprised you haven't met her."

Iris stared at Katie. "You were in Gryffindor at school. I remember your name on the team roster from back then. My brother used to mumble about you lot."

"I enjoyed Quidditch," Katie replied with a shrug.

"So is that why you're together?" Iris pressed, leaning slightly forward.

"He saved her life," Cassiopeia supplied when Katie wouldn't answer. "Their village burned down, and he saved her life. It sounds terribly romantic."

All eyes were on Katie at the careless comment, and she slowly sipped her champagne despite her tightening throat. Some spy she made; any mention of that fire and she nearly froze. She put down her glass, glad that her hand wasn't shaking. "It wasn't romantic, Cass," Katie murmured.

"How did it happen?" Iris asked, no sympathy or empathy in her tone at all.

Katie was convinced she was a Death Eater. "I don't like talking about this. There are better things for us to talk about. It's a party, after all," she said with a strained smile.

"Well, this is more than simply a social gathering," Iris said, her smile rather like a shark's. Pansy looked vaguely ill and the Greengrass girls were looking away from her. Millicent was quiet, but her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. Whatever was going on, Iris was in tight control of that knot of girls.

Katie glared at Iris. "I watched my mother _burn._ I don't like talking about this."

"Iris, don't be rude," Honoria murmured, shaking her head at the other woman. "She's with Marcus. He'd never be with one of _them._ He dotes on her, the lucky girl," Honoria added, shooting Katie a jealous glance. "Adrian couldn't commit to anything more than a few dates at a time, let alone making sure I'm not upset about something."

"What are you—"

Katie was cut off by a shadow approaching her from behind and Honoria's knowing smirk. She looked up and saw Marcus standing there. She smiled at him reassuringly. "Marcus."

"I thought you'd like a drink," he said slowly, though neither he nor Katie ever drank much at any of these parties. "Hello, ladies."

"She's quite all right," Cassiopeia told Marcus, waving him off. "Do tell the boys we'd like to see them _sometime,_ will you?"

"I'll come back for a dance," he told Katie, touching her shoulder gently.

Katie waited until Marcus was out of earshot, trying not to smile much. The other girls simply stared at her for a long moment. "See? Didn't I tell you?" Cassiopeia said, breaking the silence. "He's a romantic." She patted Katie's arm fondly. "It's sweet."

Iris made a moue of disappointment, but Honoria then jumped in to talk about how thoughtless Adrian could be. Daphne Greengrass ventured a few comments about Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson commented on Blaise Zabini.

"I thought you were dating Draco Malfoy?" Katie asked, confused. "The two of you were at the Yule Ball together at school."

Pansy shook her head. "We're just really good friends at this point. Besides, his family is in a tight spot right now. It wouldn't be safe to be that closely associated with him." She looked down at her lap for a moment, then looked up and shrugged. It looked careless, but Katie could see the tension there. "I can do better, I'm sure of it."

"Well, he's seeing _someone,"_ Millicent said. "He sneaks off a lot, and he definitely looks like he was getting shagged regularly."

The gossip turned toward the Hogwarts crowd, and Katie pretended to pay attention. Iris still gave her speculative looks, though that didn't bother her nearly as much as the direct questioning after the village fire. She eagerly joined Marcus for a dance, and let him drag her off from the dance floor down a corridor. She didn't care if any of the girls realized it; they vacillated between simpering arm candy or vicious harpy anyway. "Marcus? What is it?"

Warrington smirked at them as he passed. He was on his way back into the ballroom, presumably from visiting the loo. Marcus brought Katie into a small room that might have been for guests to sit and wait apart from the festivities. He locked the door and pressed Katie up against the wall. "I've been waiting to do this a long time," he growled as he pulled up her robes, his voice louder than was strictly necessary.

Eyes wide in alarm, Katie caught hold of his arms. "Marcus?"

There was something in his eyes that cautioned her not to speak. "It's all right. I don't think too many will notice we're gone for a few minutes."

Which of course meant that plenty of people had noticed.

Marcus slid his hands along her thighs, caressing the bare skin between Katie's stocking and garters. "The talk was dull and unbearable." He moved in to kiss her neck, and Katie gasped when his fingers found her center. "Louder," he whispered.

Feeling like a horrible tart, Katie made sure to moan louder. She wondered who he thought was on the other side of the door, but it was probably best she didn't know. Marcus knew how to work her body at this point, so it did feel good. It took her a moment to realize that he was whispering into her ears as she moaned and clutched at him for balance. He was whispering names and dates and places for meetings, everything he had been able to glean from the other members of the party. He was telling her because no one would be able to tell that she knew these things, and she would be able to let the Order know.

So it meant that he was being invited to join in the "festivities" after the main part of the gala was over, and it chilled Katie to the bone.

Marcus moved inside of her after making her come twice. She buried her face in his neck to muffle some of her cries, and he continued to whisper into her ear, his breath hot and warm against her neck. He could be killed for doing this. She could be killed for doing this. She still froze when the fire was mentioned, when she thought of her parents dying in her home village. It wasn't as bad as the first time she had to worm her way into Marcus' social circle, but she wasn't nearly as cool or collected as she should have been. She was getting better at this, but she was still a student playing at being a master.

Katie clung to him even after he had finished, long after the whispers had stopped. "Don't go," she whispered to him. "Come home with me."

His mouth was hot and open over hers when he kissed her, but he still pulled away, his face a carefully blank mask. "I can't."

He led her from the little room, and Katie thought she saw raised eyebrows and smirks from his friends and their girlfriends. Iris detached herself from the Hogwarts girls she was clearly in control of, and Katie knew that she couldn't dodge the woman for long. Marcus directed her to go home in a bland voice. "Don't wait up, Katie," he murmured, brushing a kiss against her forehead. They were outside of the room that held the private apparition point for Warrington's home. Katie could see Iris coming down the hallway out of the corner of her eye and wanted to shout at Marcus that she was a big girl, she could handle herself. It was like being in the training program, with all those eyes on her, waiting for her to trip up and make a mistake. It was just like standing tall even when she wanted to break to pieces along her curse scar lines. It was just like pretending that she was fine even if she wanted to dissolve into a puddle of tears.

But he wouldn't be able to concentrate if she stayed, and she knew that. "Stay safe," she told him, touching his face gently. She smiled at him, as if everything was all right. It was the appearance of the thing, she told herself. They were using each other, and that was all that had happened. It didn't mean anything. None of this meant anything.

Iris was there when Marcus left, her smile dripping venom. "He's so protective of you."

"I didn't think you were the type to want a man hovering over you," Katie told her. She refused to cross her arms over her chest as she was protecting herself. She had her wand in a pocket of her skirt, and she had become proficient at wandless magic in the advanced course. She could handle Iris. It was just words, after all.

Iris circled close, her eyes glittering with malice. She was a protégé of Bellatrix Lestrange, and it showed. There was a casual cruelty to her, and Katie didn't imagine that her cousin Pansy would be exempt from it. "Oh, he's not my taste at all," she purred, her smile looking anything but social. "Why going home so soon? Why is Flint sending you home?"

"I'm tired," Katie said with a negligent shrug. "He's being thoughtful."

Her smile was like a shark's. "Oh? You sound like such a delightful shag..." Iris began, reaching out to touch Katie's bare shoulder.

Katie moved faster than she could think. She had Iris' wrist in her fist and whirled around her, bringing that arm behind the other woman and pushing it as high up as it would go without breaking. She had shoved Iris into the wall, her face pressed into the wood paneling. Katie had her wand in hand, pointing right at her sharp little chin. "You're not my type," Katie said, her voice level even though her heart was pounding.

"Pity," Iris murmured, sounding nonchalant. Katie could see the pulse pounding in her throat, though she couldn't tell if Iris was afraid or aroused. "I can't see anything when I try to look into your mind. Curious. Why is that?"

"It's not polite to peek where you don't belong," Katie replied coolly, pressing the tip of her wand into the hollow of Iris' cheek. "And not polite to listen when people are shagging. Jealousy is such an ugly look for you."

Iris glared at her, but said nothing. The wand pressing into her face and the pain in her arm were warning enough.

Katie let her go and stepped back as Montague came down the hall with Cassiopeia. "I think we're done, aren't we?" she told Iris frostily.

Iris adjusted her gloves, which had been pushed aside when Katie manhandled her. Katie thought she could see the top of the Dark Mark before the glove was pushed back into place. "Yes, I suppose we are." Her voice was just as frosty, and her chin lifted a notch. "I underestimated you. It won't happen again."

"Marcus and I are together for a reason," Katie replied. She smiled at Iris, mirroring the sharklike smile she had received not long before. "Remember that."

Montague sighed as Iris retreated back toward the ballroom. "And here, I thought I would be able to play the noble gallant." He patted Cassiopeia's arm. "Well, I'm still able to squire you safely home, Cass."

"No one believed me when I said it was a love match," Cassiopeia replied with a shrug. "Well, it's good that someone can do that in these times."

Montague sighed. "Cass..."

She turned to him and placed a finger over his lips to silence him. "We're friends, always have been. There are worse things that could have happened to either of us."

He nodded and kissed her forehead gently. "Safe trip home, Cass. I'll see you tomorrow."

Katie felt strange watching this interchange, but would have felt more conspicuous if she had simply left. Cassiopeia smiled at Katie and approached. When she took Katie's arm in a friendly way, steering her toward the apparition point, Katie didn't balk. Cassiopeia didn't have the same menacing air that Iris had. "Not all of us can be as lucky as you," Cassiopeia murmured softly when they reached the apparition point. "But it's not a terrible thing for us. Don't worry about me on that front."

"But, I didn't—"

"Of course you didn't say anything," Cassiopeia interrupted with a laugh. "But you were going to, I could tell. You haven't spent much time with us before now, so you don't really know how it works. But everyone knows everything about everybody in these parties. We all know how it goes. You're lucky. There are no expectations for you, no one telling you who or what to be all the time. Take that and _run._ Do what makes you happy. There's so few of us that can."

Disturbed, Katie only nodded and made her farewells before apparating home. She had messages to send and much to think about.

***

When the raids that Draco was supposed to be a part of over Easter hols were interrupted by Order members, he automatically assumed it was Ginny's doing. He didn't know how she did it, but he was convinced she was the one that letting them know. There was a connection between them, no matter how much he wanted to deny that it was there, and somehow she knew where he was going to be.

Yet he didn't know where she was, and that was making him utterly miserable.

He looked over at Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe was starting to get something of a vicious streak in him now that he was ignoring Draco. Goyle was still more silent between the two of them, still more likely to watch and observe rather than make remarks. He still chafed when Draco ordered him about like a lackey, but it was different than the way Crabbe spoke to him. Neither were willing to simply look like foolish bodyguards any longer, but Draco wasn't really sure of how else to relate to them at this point. He had always imposed his ideas on them, and expected them to agree. That was all he knew of friendship, really.

"What?" Crabbe asked irritably.

"How did they know we were going to be there?" Draco asked, concerned. "Any one of us could have been caught or died tonight."

Crabbe scoffed. "Not me. I won't go out like that. I'll burn the lot of them."

"Don't joke, Vince," Goyle admonished, shaking his head.

"You'd more likely burn the lot of _us_ trying to get away from _them,"_ Draco said.

Crabbe's jaw tightened. "I've gotten better control of it now. I know what I'm doing."

Draco turned away from him. That would just end badly, no matter what happened. "They can't be that good at tracking us. We didn't even know until yesterday where we were going." He thought of the prisoners in his basement with a sick feeling in his stomach. He did what he could for them, but he wasn't willing to risk his neck for them.

He wasn't even sure what he would be willing to do if Ginny was down there.

There was a commotion outside, and Draco got up. It sounded as though there were going to be more prisoners at Malfoy Manor. He would be expected to participate in torture soon enough, and he couldn't hide behind the fact that he was a student forever.

Narcissa looked at Draco. "There are Snatchers in the drawing room," she told him, her voice quiet and strained. "They say they have Harry Potter."

If anything, Draco felt even worse. _Everyone_ knew how much he had hated Harry in school. They would expect him to do something. They would expect him to torture Harry, and the fight had gone out of him. It wasn't even because of Ginny, though Merlin knew he hated the fact that Harry dated her first. Draco had no taste for torture, and it was only the veiled threat overhanging him and his parents that even made him go through the motions.

It was almost with relief that Draco lied. Of course it was Harry with the Weasley boy and the Mudblood girl. Of course. But the ridiculous pustules made the lie a believable one, and Draco did his best to avoid the worst of the ensuing fight. He had to stay alive for Ginny's sake. No one else would save her; Harry was too busy being a hero, no matter what the cost. He knew she had escaped the castle, and he could only hope that she had the good enough sense not to return after Easter hols. He wouldn't be able to do anything to help her if she did.

"You missed an opportune moment," Goyle said once everything settled. He didn't quite look at Draco, preferring to stare at the fireplace in the drawing room. Bellatrix was seething mad, and stomping around in the dining room. Everyone knew better than to approach her; even without a wand, she was dangerous.

"I didn't recognize him," Draco insisted stubbornly. "How could I? Face like that..."

Goyle turned to look at him. "You recognized him," he said quietly. "You did it for _her,_ didn't you? That's a stupid thing. She won't know you did it, and you could've been hurt for it if anyone figured it out."

Draco stared at Goyle. "I don't know what you're talking about..."

"I'm not as thick as you like to think." Goyle turned away to look back at the fireplace. "I know you've been sneaking off to see that girl. Sometimes you have red hairs on your robes when you get back into the common room."

Draco's mouth was dry, and he could taste the ash in the fireplace. "Oh."

"Vince didn't notice it."

"Why didn't you say anything, then?" Draco asked quietly. "If I've been that horrid to you..."

"You weren't. Not all the time, anyway." Goyle turned and smiled at him. "You're miserable enough most of these days. I thought some distraction would be good for you."

"Has it been?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet."

Draco laughed and Goyle smiled at him. "Thank you," Draco murmured.

"Just don't be stupid and get yourselves killed."

"I'm trying," Draco replied ruefully. "So far, so good."

"You're going to have to choose where your alliances lie," Goyle continued in that same soft voice. "You have to stand for something."

"I just want my family safe."

"I know. But you can't play both sides forever."

Draco nodded, not even bothering to deny that impression. He was hedging his bets, even if it kept looking more and more like Harry Potter was going to die. If Voldemort was in charge... Maybe he could ask for Ginny and keep her. He might have to do vile things to prove he was worthy of the Dark Mark on his arm and to prove he deserved a boon like that, but it was possible. Anything was possible, right?

***

Bellatrix seethed. Not only did she not get a chance to finish things off with the Mudblood, but they had Harry Potter and the sword of Gryffindor _here_ and _ready for the taking_ and it went all to hell from there. Lord Voldemort saw her at her worst, and she _failed,_ and there was no way to salvage things at this point.

Even worse, Draco didn't seem to be taking to the life as well as she'd hoped.

She had her little protégé toys to play with, and they showed more zest for the cause than Draco did. Narcissa had likely coddled the boy too much. Lucius certainly hadn't involved him in any of the schemes he'd had. That came in handy when he was caught after the Ministry of Magic debacle, but it left the boy unprepared. And she could only do so much with what little time she had. She had too much to do, too many things to handle.

She caught a flash of Weasley red in her mind and stopped in her relentless pacing. It was late at night and everyone else was asleep. She was the only one still awake, the only one angry enough to still be trying to figure out what went wrong. Bellatrix would never admit it to anyone else, but things had gone horribly, terribly wrong and she didn't know how to fix it.

But a Weasley? Here?

She stalked through the halls of Malfoy Manor, searching for the bit of Weasley red in her mind. It was here somewhere, a blood traitor was in the house somewhere...

Draco's room.

She opened the door as swiftly and silently as she could, determined to save her nephew from danger. He didn't know how to protect himself well enough yet. He was not yet molded into the shape of a proper Death Eater.

He was in bed, asleep. No one else was in the room.

Confused, Bellatrix stalked into the room. Wandless, she couldn't properly search the room. That dreaded Weasley blood traitor had to be about somewhere. She tried to cast a searching spell without her wand, but her magic fizzled out before it reached the walls of the room. There was nothing she could see, nothing she could sense. But she knew that there was a Weasley somehow connected to her nephew, somehow in this room. Bellatrix had to save him from that taint, that evil that came from blood traitors. It only lead to putrefaction of a preserved bloodline, and that couldn't be borne.

Draco made a soft moaning noise in his sleep and twisted beneath his sheets, a hand fisting in the pillow. Concerned, Bellatrix sat on the edge of his bed and touched his cheek gently. She never had children and never would. He was the closest thing she would ever have to a child, Black blood running through his veins. She had to preserve that, had to make sure he did well for himself. If Narcissa and Lucius weren't able to provide for him, she had to.

Here. Weasley red. In his mind, in his dreams.

Bellatrix pulled back as if singed, disbelieving what he had felt. That noise hadn't been a moan of surprise or terror, and the red she had seen in her mind didn't speak of anger or hate or the proper modes of attack against a blood traitor.

No, he was infatuated with the Weasley girl.

He would deny it when awake, she was sure. He wasn't a simpleton. But the girl had curves, and Draco was still a boy. He lusted after the girl, and was confused enough about his duty and his place in their world. He wasn't yet indoctrinated on Voldemort's plans for the future, wasn't yet involved as much as he would be. He hadn't proved himself, and Lucius' mismanagement of the boy was leading him down the wrong path.

"That's all right, Draco," Bellatrix crooned, stroking his face gently. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, brushing his hair back. "I'll take care of you. I'll make everything all right again. It will all work out for the best for you. That's a promise."

Content, Bellatrix let herself out of his room.

***  
***


	10. The Beginning of the End

_I throw my mantle over the moon   
And I blind the sun on his throne at noon,   
Nothing can tame me, nothing can bind,   
I am a child of the heartless wind--   
But oh the pines on the mountain's crest   
Whispering always, "Rest, rest."_  
Sara Teasdale, "The Cloud"

Somehow the month of April seemed to spin by faster than Katie could account for it. Between her classes taking up much of her time and the looming end of term, she was caught up in those requisite activities. She was still trying to meet Kingsley regularly; while he didn't exactly update her regarding Marcus' reports or status, she knew that he was busier than ever tracking Death Eater movements. For his part, Marcus was busy in his new shop and building up his customer base. Their new neighbors all had wonderful things to say about him when they saw Katie, that he was unfailingly polite and hardworking.

She knew that. On some level, it was unnerving to know that Death Eaters weren't the abhorrent monsters that the Order wanted to paint them.

"Something big is happening," Marcus told her abruptly one night toward the end of April. "I'm not sure what, but a lot of the more important Death Eaters are starting to move." He didn't mention that Bletchley had willingly volunteered to help, or that Higgs had smugly assumed his place in the front lines. Warrington and Pucey had been a bit more reticent, and Montague had been surprisingly silent.

Katie could hear the change of pace in his heartbeat beneath her ear. "What do you think it is?"

"You know that Potter's still alive," he murmured. Katie nodded; he had told her about the rage that had come down the ranks after hols when Potter slipped through their fingers. "No one really heard the whole story about what happened. The one that made the most sense was that he tried to go after some weapon that apparently he figured out the hiding place for. If that's true, then there must be something else he's going for. They wouldn't call for nearly as many Death Eaters at once otherwise. I think they're going to try to stop him."

Meaning, kill him.

"What are you going to do?" Katie asked in a low voice. If something indeed happened, the law enforcement ranks would be tapped. The Order would definitely wind up being there.

"I don't have specific orders right now," Marcus murmured, rubbing Katie's shoulder soothingly. It did more to comfort him than her, however. "I'm on standby. But if they're really going after Potter, they'll probably call me in."

Katie found herself tracing the Dark Mark on his arm, still visible amidst the scarring. They were all scarred somehow by this, weren't they? This had started a generation ago, and it would probably be finished in their lifetime. It didn't seem fair that they had to finish cleaning up after another generation's mistakes.

"Be careful if they do," Katie murmured. She turned and rolled over on top of him. She rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him as he settled his arms comfortably around her shoulders. "I might get called in as well."

"The law enforcement program, you mean?"

She nodded. "And if the Order calls me..."

"It would be too much to hope for that we'd be left in peace," Marcus murmured ruefully, running his fingers through her dark hair. "I like this life we've built."

Katie shifted position to kiss him softly on the lips. "It's safe here." It was the only reply she felt comfortable saying; what if this life didn't last any longer than the next few months? What if either of them was caught? What if they were killed? She couldn't bear to think of Marcus being tortured by Death Eaters for his involvement with her, couldn't bear that he would get even a fraction of the horror she had lived through with the locket.

He simply held her, not disagreeing with her. She wondered if she had said something wrong, if perhaps he was fishing for more than that.

He deserved more than her noncommittal replies. He deserved something more than a sham relationship, someone capable of feeling more than rage and regret. Marcus would discover that sooner or later. Katie was going to take every moment she could until that happened.

***

There was no sign of Ginny in Hogwarts after Easter hols, and Draco had been both miserable and pleased by it. He had gotten her note, of course, but he wouldn't have put it past her to try to figure out a way to stay in the castle even so. There was no real change between the atmosphere at Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts; it seemed as though there more and more tension as the days passed. Harry Potter was definitely alive, definitely still working to counter Voldemort however he could. Draco knew that there were objects that had to be hidden; Bellatrix had exulted that she was one of his few trusted Death Eaters in these times, even with the loss of her wand and the fiasco at Malfoy Manor. Her heart was true, after all, and she never lost faith that Voldemort was the way the pureblooded had to go.

Draco wasn't sure of it at all, but he kept his mouth shut and his head down. There was no need to call attention to it at all.

Slughorn was absolutely useless as a Slytherin Head of House. He was obviously terrified by the thought of Death Eaters in the castle and possibly torturing students. As long as he wasn't in their sights, he didn't seem to care about his students' welfare. Draco had overheard other Slytherins coming to Slughorn for advice about what to do politically, and the best Slughorn could do was tell the students to follow their instincts. Draco could understand self preservation, but Slughorn seemed to take it to such a degree that it made Draco feel almost ill. _You're supposed to be our Head of House,_ he wanted to say. _You're supposed to lead by example. You're supposed to be the very best that we can be. Is cowardice, fear and defensiveness all we can hope to be?_

There had to be more, but Draco couldn't see it either.

He felt a twinge in his Dark Mark on 1 May, the aftereffect of a particularly strong summons for another Death Eater. Goyle and Crabbe felt it as well, but didn't have any idea who it might be. They were all students, so their usefulness to the Death Eater ranks was limited.

Draco left the common room, and Crabbe and Goyle followed. They usually did, though he knew it wasn't in any kind of bodyguard capacity. Goyle was still a friend, after a fashion. Draco wasn't as sure about Crabbe anymore.

"Listen, Malfoy," Crabbe said, his voice taking on an almost obnoxious tone. "What do you think you're doing? It's late..."

Draco stopped short when he thought he saw Weasley red. It wasn't Ginny. It couldn't be Ginny. She wouldn't be so insanely _stupid_ and reckless as to come back to Hogwarts. She was smarter than that. She was better than that.

And the shade was just off. Hers had a touch of gold in it, and the red he had seen had a more orange cast to it. That had to be Ron Weasley, then.

"I saw the Weasel," Draco hissed, pointing at the empty hallway. "Do you plan on just staying behind when they might be right here?"

"Fuck no," Crabbe replied, eyes pitiless. It was disconcerting for Draco to see.

"I guess you've chosen," Goyle murmured, taking out his wand.

"Not just yet," Draco replied with a shake of his head.

Later, Draco would wonder why Crabbe still thought he could control the fiendfyre, why he hadn't learned his lesson after Flint's village. The Room of Requirement went up in flames, and Draco suddenly understood the horror and rage in Flint's expression when he had started to beat Crabbe. The walls of flame were impossibly high, and there was no way he would have been able to get out of the room if Potter and his friends hadn't saved him. Draco still wasn't entirely sure why he had done it.

Draco didn't know about Goyle, but owing his life to Potter stung something fierce.

He wasn't sure where in the grand scheme of the battle it was, but he did see Ginny Weasley in the flesh. There was no mistaking that shade of red, the gold highlights or the stubborn tilt to her chin as she threw out hexes at Death Eaters twice her size.

_No,_ Draco thought he said, his eyes growing wide with alarm. She couldn't have been there, _shouldn't_ have been there. Didn't her insanely overprotective family get a hold of her when she escaped the castle? She knew not to come back. Didn't she know what they would do to her if she ever stopped moving?

But if he was honest with himself, this was _Ginny._ She would run roughshod over all of his concerns without batting an eyelash if she thought she was right.

Draco pulled her aside during a lull in her hex casting. "Ginny!" he hissed, eyes searching her face frantically. She looked the same, she felt the same, she smelled the same. "What are you doing here? You'll get yourself killed."

She smiled that confident smile of hers, the one that previously led to spine-melting kisses and the promise for more. "I wasn't about to stay in the Room of Requirement during all the fun."

"Fun?!" Draco cried, tamping down on the urge to shake her. She didn't understand, she hadn't seen the devastation all throughout the halls. That had to be it. She hadn't been singed by flames that would never go out until even the ash was gone, and she hadn't had to kill anyone yet. She was riding high on adrenaline, and didn't realize just how serious the stakes were.

Ginny cupped his face in her hand, the smile slipping just a fraction. "Draco, what is it? I'm fine, you're fine. It's going to be okay, no matter what happens today."

She had always believed the best would happen. She had always tried to be such an optimist, even when Draco thought there was no hope left.

"I can't lose you," Draco whispered, shaking his head. For all that Vincent Crabbe had been a prat recently, he had still been a friend. Losing him was like losing an arm, and Draco was only starting to realize that.

"You won't," she murmured, sliding the hand at his cheek around to cup the back of neck. She pulled him closer, so that their foreheads touched and they were nearly kissing. "I've been fighting a while tonight. I've been all right so far. I've learned quite a bit about dueling from my brothers." She gave Draco a wry smile. "For all that they were horrid, I even learned a thing or two from the Carrows."

"Oh? What's that?"

"To be ruthless about getting what I want. And what I want tonight is to survive. Once I have that, I can see about getting you and the law enforcement program."

"You're mad."

Ginny laughed, and it warmed Draco's heart to hear it. "Maybe. But I'm the best kind of mad, aren't I?"

"You've got me."

"Exactly."

They separated with a kiss, promising to meet up after the battle was over. Bellatrix must have seen them together, or she must have had their own concerns. She caught sight of Ginny out of the corner of her eye and stopped toying with the Order member in front of her. He fell with a dull thud, eyes wide and glassy in death. Draco couldn't recognize who it was she had just killed, but he suspected it didn't matter anyway.

Draco was heading toward Bellatrix and Ginny when Montague caught his arm. "There you are! Your father's been looking for you."

"I'm fine. Where's Father, then?"

"By one of the ballrooms in the east wing," Montague replied, pointing in that general direction.

Bellatrix was throwing a curse at Ginny, trying to taunt her into a proper duel. Ginny blocked it with a shield spell and threw back a hex that Bellatrix easily blocked. Draco stepped forward again; he recognized that look on Bellatrix's face. She was _angry._ If he didn't get in the way, if he didn't stop it, Ginny would die. Somehow he knew it was his fault, and that he had to stop it from happening.

"Your father's not that way," Montague hissed, catching hold of Draco's arm again. "You're going to get yourself killed if you go that way."

"Tell him I'll be there shortly," Draco snapped, shaking off Montague's hold. "I have something to finish up here."

"Draco..." Montague began, but he was distracted by an explosion behind them. "Merlin's balls!" he shouted, ducking sideways. "You get to your father!" he shouted at Draco, throwing a hex behind them as he ran for cover.

He absolutely planned to, right after he made sure that Ginny was all right. The entire fucking castle was at war, hexes and curses flying left and right. And yet somehow, his insane and devious aunt managed to find his secret girlfriend to attack. Either the world really was that small, especially when ending, or Bellatrix somehow _knew._

Hearing "Avada" come out of Bellatrix's mouth nearly made Draco's heart stopped. If he hadn't been at least a dozen feet away, he would have kissed Molly Weasley for stopping his aunt from killing Ginny.

Ginny stumbled sideways, and Draco pulled her out of the way. "Dear Merlin, I nearly lost you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her temple. He was shaking so hard, he didn't think he could stop. Ginny wound her arms around him. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

"Go on, I suppose," Ginny murmured, though her arms tightened. "Let's get out of here."

"That's the best idea you've had all year," Draco muttered, pulling her away from the fray and back toward one of the hallways. It was in the opposite direction of his father, something he hadn't realized when they first stumbled down the hallway. There was still fighting, but not nearly as intense as the Great Hall or the side ballrooms where there was more room to move about and hurl the larger curses.

Draco stunned the Death Eaters he knew when they crossed paths. He couldn't bring himself to kill them; they had been friends and comrades even an hour ago. They could very well be that again, as long as Ginny or his parents weren't in danger.

"We can't hide forever," Ginny murmured, shaking her head at him.

"I can bloody well try," Draco snarled, his hand tight around her wrist. "I'm not losing you in this mess. I won't go through that."

Ginny shot a curse over his shoulder with a careless flick of her other wrist. "Then let me go and fight alongside you. Otherwise, this isn't going to work."

"Ginny..."

"I'm not helpless," she said, her voice firm and eyes flashing. "I'm not a doll to tuck away until you're ready to play with me. I'm not an object to put aside until you want to look at me. I'm a capable witch, and I know what I'm doing."

He had given some variant of this speech to his mother when he returned to Hogwarts after hols with her wand. _I'm a grown man, a marked Death Eater. I can't hide behind your skirts forever, Mum. You have to trust that I know what I'm doing._

Draco released her wrist. "All right."

She nodded at him briskly. "Come on, then. We need to get outside."

This time, Draco followed her lead.

***

They had been in the middle of class when a silver butterfly floated into the room, interrupting Stepanov's lecture on performing multiple wandless spells at once. He had glowered at the little patronus, but then Tonks' voice boomed into the room. "Attack at Hogwarts! All backup needed to protect the students!"

Stepanov had watched the silver butterfly flit out of his classroom with a grim expression on his face. He turned toward the class, and Katie's stomach had started churning with nerves. They were going to Hogwarts to fight, of course. That hadn't been what worried her. What worried her was if Marcus had been called to fight as well.

"This is not a drill, ladies and gentlemen. I am confident you will do what needs to be done to protect the students. I don't doubt that there is an evacuation plan in place. We'll find out once we arrive at the school, and we'll divide you accordingly based on your skills."

Katie had found herself apparating directly onto Hogwarts grounds; the anti-apparition wards had somehow been removed. She didn't even think of Marcus or the other Death Eaters right away. She was on the castle side of the evacuation route, keeping the younger students safe as they moved through the myriad tunnels out of Hogwarts and toward Hogsmeade. She wasn't sure if her fellow classmates were going to side-along apparate the children out of the village or simply barricade themselves into buildings. There wasn't time to ask, and that didn't matter anyway. Her role was to allow the students to escape the castle.

Once that was done, she realized that she had told the last student to hurry along and not look back. She had sealed the entrance, leaving herself in Hogwarts in the midst of a raging battle.

It hadn't been a conscious decision, but it wasn't one she regretted. The Death Eaters _owed_ her for what they did to her.

The silver curse scars seemed to glow even brighter beneath her skin, and she began to move toward the thick of the action. Perhaps she would find Marcus along the way. If she did, she would have to make sure he was safe. If she didn't...

Her mind stuttered to a stop, not able to even contemplate that as a possibility. Marcus was a survivor. He would be fine. He didn't need her to save his ass every time he got into trouble, and he was likely with his friends.

But if he was hurt...

Katie blasted her way through debris and continued toward the fighting. She couldn't think about something like that anymore. She had a job to do. Losing anyone she loved was not an option. She simply wouldn't allow it.

***  
***


	11. To The Last

_I wish my heart was as cold as the morning dew  
But it's as warm as saxophones  
And honey in the sun for you  
I've been spending half the year  
In a plane going up and down  
You've been seeing other people from a nearby town  
Been obsessing and getting depressed about us  
Excess baggage and other stupid band stuff  
I wish my heart was cold  
But it's warmer than before  
I wish my heart was as cold as the morning dew  
But it's as warm as saxophones in  
And honey in the sun for you_  
Camera Obscura, "Honey In The Sun"

Marcus ducked the severing curse thrown his way and continued moving toward the dorms. He had told Montague he was going to see if the students were all right. What were they thinking, starting a battle here? It was bound to kill innocent pureblooded children, and that was supposed to be the whole point of this.

He caught sight of the burned flesh of his left arm, and pressed his lips together grimly. What was supposed to be often wasn't.

His heart nearly stopped when he saw Katie dueling with a Death Eater. Marcus didn't know the fellow that well, just that he often worked with Rowle. Without thinking, Marcus sent a vicious hex at that particular bastard when Katie's footing slipped on debris. He couldn't even breathe. Was she hurt? Had that bastard harmed her?

Katie was fine, just a single lock of hair falling out of her hair band. "Katie," he murmured, grasping hold of her arms. Before she could even reply, Marcus pulled her in close and breathed in the scent of her. Merlin, if anything had happened...

"You big softie," she chuckled, smiling against his chest. "I'm fine."

Marcus pressed a kiss against the top of her head. "I just needed to be sure."

Katie grinned and gave him a playful push. "Go, do whatever it is you should be doing."

"I was going to check the dorms."

"McGonagall evacuated all the younger years," Katie said, squeezing his arm. "I sealed the tunnel after them myself."

"And you're still here why?" Marcus cried, towering over her in shock. "Get out of here!"

"I could say the same of you!"

There was the sound of stones shifting behind him, but Marcus didn't connect it to anything right away. She pushed him back suddenly, her eyes wide. As Marcus stumbled over the debris behind him, Katie pointed her wand at him. "Ennervate!"

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Marcus fell backward. Already conscious, the spell burned along his synapses. He was hyper-alert now, every sense burning with intensity. He could hear every last nuance of sound around him, smell the scent of everything around him. The dig of the broken stones behind his back when he fell was painful, and he could feel the skin split along his palm as it sliced across a jagged piece of marble. He saw everything around him in painstaking detail, and it overwhelmed him to the point that he felt immobilized.

And he saw Katie, shining from the inside out like a silver beacon. The scar lines were glowing with a ferocity he had never seen before, growing wide and ever brighter. It was almost as if her skin was splitting apart at these seams, as if she was made up of liquid silver.

The largest crack was right over her chest, right over her heart.

He understood then, as the details seemed to slot into place. She had been hurt too badly and had lost too much to say anything to him. She needed to be strong, needed to be fierce. She needed to become something more than the tool Draco Malfoy had made her out to be in her seventh year, something more than the helpless girl caught in a web of deceit. She had to overcome her fears of being helpless, to move past the feeling that she was useless. She couldn't stand to have anyone know her weakness.

And it was him.

She _loved_ him, even if she had never said the words. She had shown him at least a hundred different ways, trusted him and had done her best to keep him safe.

Right now, as she battled against Thorfin Rowle, Katie had to know that Marcus wasn't going to come between them, that he wasn't going to sacrifice himself to save her. She knew him well enough by now to know that he would seriously consider it, or would cast an Unforgivable to save her life if he had to. Even Aurors with good reason were questioned closely for casting any of the Unforgivables, and Katie loathed them. She would never use them if she could help it, and she would try her best to keep him from using them as well.

The heightened awareness dimmed just enough for it to not be painful by the time Katie had Rowle trussed up like a Christmas goose. The man was still breathing, a large gash on the side of his head as he lay on the floor unconscious.

Marcus watched Katie approach him, her skin glowing silver and her hair a dark halo around her head. He had never seen her look more beautiful.

"They can't know," she was saying, and he could hear her staccato heartbeat beneath her words, the push of her breath and the rustle of her blouse as she moved to reach out for him. "You can't let them know I'm important to you. You can't let them know you've changes sides."

He pulled her down on top of him, the blood on his palm smearing across her arm. He could smell the coppery tang of it, could see the contrast of the drying red against the black of her uniform blouse. "You are important. No matter what happens, you _are_ important to me. I love you, Katie Bell. If anything happened to you, there would be no point to going on."

He saw the flush in her cheeks, the way her lips parted and eyes dilated. He pulled her down into a desperate kiss, his tongue sliding into her mouth. He loved her, he couldn't lose her. He'd lost everything else in his life, he refused to lose the one good thing he had left. She'd known, but she hadn't really _known._ They'd never spoken of it aloud, and Marcus didn't expect her to be ready to say it in return. He could be the brave one in this. Slytherins were self serving at times, but they weren't cowards.

When Marcus ended the kiss slowly, Katie opened her mouth to speak. He covered her lips with his fingertips, tracing them. "Go off and save the world, Katie. Don't you dare die. You have to come back to me."

Katie's eyes were bright and shining, and she blinked furiously as she clasped his hand tightly in hers. "I promise," she whispered, voice cracking.

He had to trust in her, just as she had to trust in him. She was a shining beacon of silver, and Marcus let her go.

***

Ginny and Draco were separated outside of the castle. The fighting was a bit more diffuse out in the courtyards, but that didn't mean it was any less deadly. Somehow, she knew that Draco would make it. The Death Eaters wouldn't kill him, and Order members would never kill a student. As Bellatrix had shown, the Death Eaters weren't above killing students that got in their way or to make a point.

She ducked out of the way of explosions and did her best to contain some of the damage or hex the Death Eaters she encountered. It took a moment before she twigged to the fact that something was a bit off about them.

They were running away from the castle.

"What's happened?" she called out to an unfamiliar Order member. The woman shrugged, and continued with her work to contain the Death Eaters fleeing the scene before they remembered that they could apparate off of the school grounds.

Ginny pushed her way into the castle, looking about for someone who might know what was going on. That was when she realized that the fighting had stopped for the most part, and the dust was literally starting to settle from that last explosion.

Voldemort was lying on the ground, dead. Harry was still standing.

She didn't know how he did it, but she didn't care. Seeing Voldemort's corpse was more than enough proof that things were over. Oh, there would be clean up, still. She wasn't so naïve to think that everything would automatically be happily ever after. She knew there was still work to do, and that she would need that law enforcement training now more than ever.

Katie was safe, blood on her temple and on her sleeves, but she seemed all right. She was cradled in Marcus Flint's arms, and they were whispering to each other softly.

Molly Weasley swept Ginny up into her arms, and they sought out the rest of the family. If Ginny kept craning her neck about, it wasn't remarked upon. Everyone was doing it, everyone was trying to figure out who had lived and who had died. It was such a tangled mess, it seemed impossible that it would be sorted out.

She didn't see any pale blonde hair, however, and her gut was starting to churn. They had been separated outside, so perhaps he was outside. He might not have realized she returned to the thick of things. He might still be outside.

But he knew her, too. He knew she wouldn't be able to stay away for long.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair in Draco's exact shade. Narcissa Malfoy was sweeping Draco into her arms, painful relief etched across her patrician features. Ginny understood the feeling, and pulled herself away from her family to dash across the remnants of the Great Hall. She ignored her mother calling after her, ignored Ron's shouting.

Draco looked up as he pulled away from his mother, and his face broke out into an exultant grin. He had been worried about her, too.

Without thinking of the consequences, Ginny launched herself at him and snogged him as if the world was ending and tomorrow would never come. Draco's arms were tight around her, holding on as if he was never going to let go. That would be fine if that was true. She didn't want him letting to. She didn't want him going anywhere.

There would be time for explanations, for explaining away his behavior and trying to get probation or a commuted sentence for him. There would be a way for her to help him, to use whatever influence she had to help Draco avoid a lifetime in Azkaban. He didn't deserve that kind of punishment. He had done awful things, but he wasn't a monster. He didn't deserve to be treated like one.

"We'll figure something out," Ginny told him, grasping hold of his arm. "I know we can do something about this."

He gave her a soft smile and cupped her face in his hands. "You were always an optimist."

"Someone has to be."

Ron was looking thunderous, and Draco didn't fancy getting his other eye blackened. "They're looking for you."

"I know," Ginny said, smiling at Draco. "I found them. I found where I want to be, too."

"It won't be easy," he murmured, stroking her face. His parents had moved off to the side, giving them a modicum of privacy. It wasn't about to last long, the way Ron looked. "Our families hate each other, this whole thing... I'm probably going to Azkaban."

"I'll do something," Ginny promised him. "I'll figure something out." She covered his hand with hers and leaned into his touch. "Nothing worth having is easy. I know that now."

Draco looked as if he wanted to say something, but he leaned forward and kissed her. "Whatever happens, remember I love you. I _tried_ to stay out of things, but I don't think it's going to be enough."

There were inquests, of course. There were statements taken and information gathered, bodies counted and blame ready to be assigned. The early days after the battle were chaotic, and some Death Eaters that survived the battle still managed to escape detection. Aurors and Order of the Phoenix members were busy. While Azkaban no longer held Dementors, it was still a dreary place to be housed while the government sorted things out.

Ginny didn't want to think about how bad it must be for Draco, to be staying in a tiny cell at Azkaban. His parents and some of his friends were there, but they weren't housed together. He had nothing to do but stare at the walls, contemplate his memories and wonder when he was getting out, if at all.

Her family thought she was out of her mind, of course. Ron had been the worst, accusing her of being under an Imperius curse. Her mother had blanched at Ginny's "Why do you think his aunt hated me so much?" taunt at Ron, a reminder of just how close they had all come to losing Ginny in the battle. It didn't matter that her family had wanted her out of the way, that she was supposed to have been protected the whole time. And honestly, it hurt that Harry had never _once_ asked if she was all right afterward. He never once came to see her, but would discuss things with Ron and Hermione for hours.

Ginny understood what that meant. She knew what her place in his life was at that point.

She met Katie in the seaside village she now called home. It was a lovely spring day, and Ginny sat across from her in an outdoor café. "You look good," Ginny remarked, meaning it. The curse scars were all but invisible, and Katie just seemed happier somehow. When Ginny had approached Katie at the Burrow almost a year ago, Katie had seemed to be a seething ball of anger. It was almost as if she had come to some kind of an understanding about things, as if she had finally come to terms with what had happened to her.

Thinking back on it, Ginny had finally stopped having nightmares months ago. Her last one had been the night before she and Draco blasted the stone face of Slytherin and the outline of the basilisk down in the Chamber of Secrets. It had stopped being something for her to be afraid of, and just something else that had happened when she was younger. Perhaps Katie saw the locket damage the same way.

"I'm entering the program," Katie said with a pleased smile. It faltered after a moment. "They gave all of us survivors passing marks. That was possibly the kindest thing to do. I would have told them where to shove it if they still wanted me to write an exam."

Ginny laughed. "I would love tickets to that."

"They're awarding certificates to the ones that didn't make it," Katie said, stirring some sugar into her tea. "I didn't know them very well, and we certainly never were friends, but I'm still sorry it happened. Most of them probably weren't all that bad."

"I don't think anyone is, if you know them well enough," Ginny murmured.

"I suppose you're right," Katie agreed, nodding. She sipped at her tea, then smiled at Ginny. "So. You and Draco Malfoy."

"You and Marcus Flint," Ginny replied, smiling at Katie expectantly. "How did that happen?"

"I saved his life," Katie said simply. Ginny could tell there was more of a story behind it than what she was willing to say. "We understand what it's like, but it's more than that. It's not just losing a home and family and everything we knew. It's... I can't really explain. But somehow things don't hurt as much when he's around."

Ginny gave Katie a warm smile. "I'm glad you have that. You deserve it."

"Thanks." Katie looked at Ginny. "So what are you going to do with Draco?"

She gave Katie a wry smile. "I'm going to try to save his life, I think."

"Talk to Kingsley and Tacklethorpe if you can. They're the most likely to actually listen to reason and not get carried away. They know shades of gray exist."

"Thanks. I'll do that," Ginny said. She rubbed the edge of her saucer with the edge of her thumbnail. "How is it really? The program, I mean? Is it what you thought it would be? Is it worth all of this that we've gone through?"

Katie paused before simply saying "Of course it is!" Ginny deserved a true answer, whatever it was. "The past year made everything harder, you know. It's not accurate. The world doesn't end every year, you know."

"Almost," Ginny said with a grin.

"Almost," Katie agreed, remembering what it was like at Hogwarts. "And what happened to me before I started... I could've done the year differently. I could've been different if I joined, but with what happened my seventh year, I was already trying to prove I was tough enough to be there. I was trying to prove that it wouldn't hold me back. I didn't need anyone and I didn't need their help to pass through, and I certainly didn't need any of them as friends. I certainly didn't care if they liked me or not."

Ginny watched her look down at her teacup, looking at it wistfully. "I'd do it over again if I could," Katie murmured. "If I could go back knowing what I know now? I'd appreciate it more. I'd spend more time with my Mum and Dad." She looked up at Ginny. "The hardest part of it wasn't the program. It wasn't the classes, it wasn't the practicals, it wasn't writing the exams. The hardest part of it was _me._ I couldn't deal with what happened to me, and I snapped at everybody. I made it so much worse for myself, I think."

"You have Marcus," Ginny pointed out when Katie fell silent.

She smiled. "Yeah. He's a wonderful bonus."

"What do you mean?"

"What's the point in having someone love you if you don't love yourself?"

Ginny frowned. "But..."

"If you're going to join up in the program, and if you're going to try to fight to get Draco out of prison, do it because it makes you happy. Do it because you're a whole person who wants him there, not because you think somehow you're going to be whole. It doesn't work that way."

"Oh. But I know who I am. It's just the rest of the world that doesn't."

"Why don't they?"

"Because..." _Because they wouldn't like me._ Ginny looked up at Katie. "It would break my Mum's heart to know I still remember the Dark Lord living inside my head. She would look at me and always wonder if he was still talking through me, of I'm in control."

"Does Draco know about that?"

"Yeah, he does. And he doesn't care about what happened my first year, and he never once questioned me if it was me talking or not."

"Why do you think that is?"

"He trusts that's done and over with."

"So? Why wouldn't your Mum think that? It's been years since it happened."

"Five years," Ginny agreed. "You've met my Mum."

"Everyone in Gryffindor has met your Mum," Katie said with a wry smile.

They both laughed, and after a moment, Ginny looked at Katie. "I should talk to her."

Katie nodded. "You should. You'll do whatever it is that you want to do easily. It's figuring out what you really want to do that's the hard part."

Ginny nodded and stood. "I should go talk to her. And Kingsley." Draco had been in Azkaban for a few weeks. It was time that he got out of there.

Just because the war was over didn't mean she could stop doing what needed to be done.

***

Talking to Molly Weasley was easier and harder than Ginny expected it to be. Molly had been eager to talk about what had happened in the Battle of Hogwarts, as they were calling it now. She hadn't been pleased to see Ginny snogging Draco Malfoy, and Ginny hadn't been willing to talk about it before.

"He understands things about me that you don't," Ginny murmured softly. She didn't want this to be seen as teenage petulance; her mother chalked up most things she said as being too young or being a teenager. Ginny had felt marginalized within her family for far too long, but wasn't about to ruin this opportunity.

Molly had seemed hurt by that. "What can't you discuss with me? You can tell me anything."

"I still speak Parselmouth," Ginny said bluntly. "I still remember the Chamber, the dreams, the things I did when possessed. I remember everything."

Molly had gone white with the first statement, and bewildered by the rest. "But you said..."

"I lied," Ginny murmured softly, her hands clenched in her lap. "You wanted so much for it to be true, and so much for me to be normal. I didn't want to hurt you by letting you know I was still a freak. But that's what he knows that you don't. He understands what it's like, and he doesn't blame me for it. He doesn't think I'm some kind of monster."

It was a gross oversimplification of their relationship over the past year, but it was easier to explain that way. Molly seemed to soften a fraction, though she was somewhat confused as well. "I don't think you're a monster. You're my daughter. This doesn't change that." Molly hesitantly touched Ginny's hands. "If you remember everything, then you understand why I want to protect you. Why I don't want you having anything to do with _them."_

Ginny looked at her mother sadly. "Feelings like that got us into this war in the first place. Us against them, that we're the only right ones." She gently pulled her hands out from beneath her mother's. "I'm not eleven anymore. I know what's hiding in the dark. You have to trust that I can see it, that I know what to do about it."

"Ginny..."

"I spoke with Kingsley Shacklebolt about Draco, what he tried to do. I have to think it'll help him somehow. I can't leave him in Azkaban. No matter what else he'd done, it's not something that he should be imprisoned for the rest of his life for."

Molly heaved a sigh. "I really don't think you should get involved. You've done quite enough already, Ginny. Leave it to everyone else."

"No, Mum. I haven't done enough. I was pushed aside and told to wait, and everyone thinks I'm far too young for everything that happened. But they didn't have those same kind of scruples. What do you think I'd've done if you and Dad were threatened? Anyone else in the family? What do you think _they_ did to him? Their own side?" Ginny shook her head. "If I sit back and do nothing, I'm no better than the Death Eaters."

Nearly in tears, Molly reached out and touched Ginny's face. "When did this happen? When did my baby girl grow up? You're not supposed to want to fight this. You're not supposed to do anything but go to school and date boys and then get married. You're not supposed to help fix the world's problems."

Ginny gave her mother a watery smile. "I'm your daughter. I'm just like you and Dad. I have to fix it. I can't just leave it broken. What kind of person does that make me?"

Molly dried her eyes and turned away. "Your father has a meeting with Shacklebolt at the Ministry today. I'm supposed to be there as well. I'd best get ready. We'll talk about this again."

Ginny didn't suppose she would be let off easy, but gave her mother a parting hug. They didn't hate each other, and her mother didn't yell at her for all the disappointment Ginny had caused. It was a start, at least. Molly couldn't help but be overprotective.

Getting to see Draco was difficult. He was let out of prison in late August and given five years of probation plus time served for his part in Death Eaters attacking Hogwarts. Ginny had come forward, and she had been surprised by the handful of other students that had as well. He initially returned the owls she sent, unopened, but she wasn't about to tolerate that. She apparated directly to Malfoy Manor and knocked on the front door. She was shown into a front parlor by a very obsequious house elf, and sat with her back ramrod straight. Draco would see her, even if she had to run through this entire Manor to find him.

But he came to her, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets. "Hullo, Ginevra," he murmured.

A thousand different things flooded her mind, but Ginny was at a loss as to which one fit. She stood and crossed the room, standing at its threshold in front of Draco. She grasped his arms and kissed him hard on the mouth, pouring her frustration and love and longing into it.

"I missed you," she said finally. She looked into his shocked eyes. "Don't believe anyone that ever tells you differently."

"I thought once you came to your senses, you'd realize this was a terrible idea." He was trying to hide behind sarcasm, she realized. He was giving her an exit route if she wanted it.

But she didn't.

"What's terrible is your saying this is over before it even begins."

Draco went into the parlor and stood by the fireplace, staring at the ash for a long time. "It won't be easy," he began in a low tone. "I've been accepted to do the seventh year over again. We'll be in the same classes, surrounded by everyone that knows the truth about me." He looked up at her in concern. "They won't show you any mercy."

"I'm not asking for that. I'm asking for what's real."

There was a look of stark pain on Draco's face. "I was in Azkaban, Ginny. I'm still carrying around the Dark Mark and everyone knows it. I'm the traitor to those people. I'm the one they'll hate, and they'll hate you for being with me." Ginny silently walked forward and then took his hand in hers. "I'd rather you hated me now, than when you realize how hard it's going to be."

"I'm not going to run away now," Ginny murmured, "not when things have just gotten started. I want this to play out. I want this to work. My life is better with you in it." She smiled up at him, a genuine one he hadn't seen in months. "None of those people matter, really. The important ones will understand in time."

"You're so sure about that," Draco mused. "Knowing me might ruin your chances of being that Rune Hunter you wanted to be."

"With a family like mine," she began with a soft smile, "I can be anything I want to be."

Draco pulled away from her slightly. "With a family like mine, I can't."

Ginny pulled him back toward her. "You can. If you want to. Maybe if you wanted to be part of my family. With me, I mean."

"I can't imagine they would be thrilled with the prospect."

No, they wouldn't be. "I'll get around them." She held onto him tightly. "School is starting soon. Everything gets to begin again, Draco. The war is over, and the world hasn't ended. You can start over with me, and it can be what we wanted it to be."

Ginny could tell it was tempting by the way he hesitated, the way he still wanted to do right by her by rejecting her now. "Ginny, I don't think it will work that way," he said finally.

"Neither of us know the future," she said softly. "But that's the future I want. I want it with you in it, with the two of us going to school and then the law enforcement program together. I want it to be real, to be everything we talked about."

"I'm not saying no, exactly," Draco murmured, pulling back to cup her face in his hands. His gaze was earnest and painful to look at. "I'm not saying yes, either. If this happens, if we're in the same classes together and this happens, it should go slowly. It should be as if we're starting all over again, with no history between us."

"It's a start," Ginny allowed. She remembered Katie's words, _What's the point in having someone love you if you don't love yourself?_ and thought perhaps he wasn't ready yet. He had been through a lot as well. The war ending didn't magically make things disappear. It just meant the foreboding was gone and the hard work had to begin.

She wasn't afraid of that in the slightest.

Linking hands with Draco, she smiled at him. Whatever happened next, whatever they decided to do with their relationship, she was ready.

This new world that was going to be built was going to be wonderful. She was sure of it.

The End.


End file.
